


A Standard Deviation

by unexpectedmocha



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Drug Use, F/F, Homophobia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 122,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unexpectedmocha/pseuds/unexpectedmocha
Summary: AU. Shelby Goodkind is a grad student who takes a new position working on a research study in Minnesota. There, she meets someone she's not expecting.
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 1522
Kudos: 1759





	1. Chapter 1

It was how she decided to get out of Houston.

"So you're leaving," Shelby said more than asked.

Andrew shrugged, as much annoyed as sheepish. "Shelby, you know I don't choose. I go where they tell me to go."

"I wish you’d have told me."

"I just—"

"Where?

Andrew blew out a rough breath. "Kenya, tomorrow."

“Is she going with you?”

"No, you know—"

"It’s fine." Swallowing, Shelby shook her head. "No really. It’s fine. It’s not important."

"Shelby, please," Andrew pleaded.

"I have to go. My flight leaves in two hours." She picked up her bag and walked slowly to the door. Hesitating at the threshold, she paused, regarding him.

"How long will it be this time?”

"A year? Hell, Shelby, I just thought it might be nice. You know, to see you without that hanging over our heads.”

And without another word, Shelby stepped out of her house.

+o+o

In any event, Shelby did not have the time or energy to waste ruminating over her latest problem with her non-boyfriend, or whatever it was Andrew had become to her. She fiddled nervously with her keyboard as she tapped her way through her forty-five slides yet again on the plane. She had practiced the talk literally dozens of times. She knew the exact number of seconds she would spend on each point, and she had thirty slides in reserve for the inevitable questions that would arise as she spoke. Sighing, she adjusted the logo in the corner of her title slide. The printed BCM, and beneath printed the motto: _Pro Ecclesia, Pro Texana._ For Church, for Texas.

She paused then, thinking on the meaning of the words against her position at Baylor. Two years as a grad student had hardened her. Hadn't it simply proven her cynicism was well founded? Because Shelby's project was boring, after all. It was on Epstein-Barr virus or EBV, the causative agent of the annoying but completely non-lethal infectious mononucleosis. Mono. Glandular fever. The kissing disease. This last bit was helpful for getting a laugh during her talks, a sparse awkward titter that seemed to roll in waves through the banality of scientific meetings. Of course EBV caused other things, too, like cancer, but in her own academic circle, cancer was just a buzzword to get politicians to give them more funding.

Getting a PhD hadn't been _her_ idea anyway. It had been her father's, David Goodkind, the veritable chief executive of GoodkindTaylorWise Inc. A massive multinational pharmaceuticals firm masquerading as a family business. What better way to help the company than force one of his children to become a scientist? It looked good, having someone that would could even vaguely follow along with the project leads during update meetings. As she changed the font on her departmental affiliation for the third time, Shelby reminded herself that, ultimately, she had picked her own poison. She chose the EBV project over more interesting ones that would have involved site visits and helping human patients. All to stay closer to Andrew.

The sound of the engines changed, and with a ding, the flight attendant announced their impending arrival into Amsterdam. Snapping her computer closed, she glanced out the window to see nothing but water, the southern tip of the North Sea below them. Then after a few minutes, the ground grew ever closer, and the edge of Schiphol appeared. It took her some time to deplane and pass immigration, but once she was through her advisor, Dr. Alan Dawes, was waiting for her on the lower level. He had come out to meet a colleague the previous night, an event Shelby elected to skip in order to spend much-deserved time with Andrew. Wasted, then, once he'd admitted he was headed back to Kenya. _Again_. Below her, Alan's cheerful, chubby face glowed pinkly over his terrible knit sweater with clashing colors.

"All right, Shelby?" he called to her as she stepped down from the escalator.

"Hi, Alan,” Shelby said.

She saved any confessions on her state of mind for another day; Alan was too British to brook much emotion of any sort. He chivalrously took her suitcase from her, settling it next to his own. Shelby was a tall woman, blonde and conservative in a pair of black trousers. Not quite the beauty queen she’d once been, but still more put together than the average scientist. Glancing out the doors toward the gray of the afternoon sky, she hiked her bag higher onto her shoulder and wrapped her jacket more firmly around her frame.

"Nervous are we?" Alan asked with a grin.

"A bit." Shelby pursed her lips.

"I know this is your first major lecture, but you should be proud. Most students would kill to have this chance."

"Tell me that again after I've embarrassed you. And the university."

Alan chuckled. "I highly doubt that. You're my last student, so the likelihood you'll tarnish my sterling career is quite low."

"That’s very reassuring, Alan."

"You know, in two years the big fiftieth anniversary meeting is going to be at Oxford. Do you reckon you'll want to present there as well?"

"Like they would invite me."

He looked down at her seriously then, frowning slightly. "You're sure you're quite all right, dear?"

Shelby nodded, forcing a tight-lipped smile through her irritation. "Just nerves."

"Then let's get to Amsterdam and not keep your public waiting."

+o+o

Usually after a lecture there was only what she called the "post presentation high." The adrenaline and the elation of being finished would surge through her until she felt almost outright manic with the power of it. That night though, by the time the questions had finished and she was unplugging her laptop with tingling hands, the strain of hearing her own voice break repeatedly in front of two hundred strangers had left her with a massive headache. She staggered off the stage in a daze, computer clutched protectively against her chest as though she meant for the metal case to serve as some kind of flak vest. Alan patted her on the knee when she sank into the seat beside him looking positively pleased with her performance.

"Well done, well done," he whispered.

“Thanks,” Shelby murmured quietly.

Frankly, she felt like she’d inhaled a bunch of helium as she recalled the unnaturally high breathy pitch of her voice, but didn’t feel like it was the right time for comments about it. They both fell silent as the keynote speaker took to the podium. Shelby tried to listen to whatever the man was saying, but more and more she found her attention wandering to the events of earlier in the day. So it was with a start that she realized the hour had passed when the people around her applauded loudly. A brutal blast of microphone feedback tore through the lecture hall as one of the other researchers attempted to ask the speaker a question, which only exacerbated the pain in Shelby's head. Soon it was over, however, and while Alan was drawn away to talk to several other investigators she stuffed her laptop into her bag. She went outside, immediately taking deep bracing breaths of the air to combat the pounding in her temples.

She wandered down a few steps, crossing her arms over her chest as she tipped her head back with a shaky exhale. The banner above the doorway fluttered weakly in the breeze. _4th annual EBV-Europe_ was all it read, with typical Dutch economy, which she was sure meant a whole lot of nothing to the layman. Who had the misfortune of visiting Vrije University while several hundred hapless virologists were milling around? She paused on the pavement bellow the Central Lecture Hall, gazing up at the side of the medical school offices without really seeing them. Lord, she actually felt _guilty_ for walking out on Andrew. How many months would it be before she saw him again? Three? Six? Maybe even a year? It didn't matter.

"Shelby!" a friendly voice shouted.

Shelby turned her head slightly, brushing her hair back from her face as she scanned the deepening evening shadows that encroached over the street. A woman in a black suit made her way to Shelby’s side.

"Fatin," Shelby said, hoping she didn’t sound as relieved as she felt. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since—when? Your New Years party?”

“Oh my God, has it really been that long? Bring it in girl.” Fatin hugged her, and Shelby smiled. “That was a great talk.”

"Are you here with the infectious disease division?"

"No, not this year." She dug around in her bag, producing a small business card. “I’m moonlighting for a private company. Couldn’t say no to a free trip to Amsterdam.”

"Taking in the sights, then?"

"Looking for locations for new drug trials, people interested."

Shelby made a noise low in her throat, trying not to think of her father. Whatever Fatin had been about to say she never found out, because at that moment, Alan ambled over to the pair of them, patting Shelby on the shoulder.

"Why are you two out here being anti-social when there's a free bar just over there?" Alan asked, pointing at a nearby building. "Come with me, and let's see if I can finagle a few post doctoral fellowships for you, Shelby."

If Alan had been hoping this proposal would raise Shelby's spirits, he was sorely mistaken. A postdoc. Another four years of committing herself to some half-cocked basic biology project that would relate only in a crude stretch of the imagination way to anything even remotely resembling human disease. Suddenly, she was jealous of Andrew and all his easy escapes. She nodded to Alan and followed him across the roadway as he chatted easily to Henry about an idea he had for an experiment. A few minutes later, Shelby was in a circle with Alan, Fatin, and another man Shelby didn't know.

Some awful lounge type music played in the background while the scientists were stood around in little clusters carrying on jerky conversations. Large picture windows overlooked a square of park from a renovated upper floor, and Shelby found herself wondering at the wildness of it. In Houston, she thought with unreasonable anger, it would be an immaculate lawn, mow lines intersecting at perfect ninety-degree angles. It aggravated her that things could stay so neat and orderly while her life shredded by inches around her.

That sense of enmity toward the world at large was only compounded by trying to stand there and say anything even vaguely coherent, because if there is anything the layman should know about scientists, it's that most of them are socially awkward. There were precisely two things to improve them: alcohol and long acquaintance. Alan, damn him, had the benefit of knowing most of the researchers in the EBV field for years. Shelby, on the other hand, had resigned herself to relying on him because no amount of charm on her part could totally smooth over a personal interaction with the average professor.

"Daniel," Alan said at one point, tugging Shelby slightly in front of him, “I want you to meet my student Shelby Goodkind. Shelby, this is an old colleague of mine from America, Daniel Faber."

“Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Faber,” Shelby said, drawling a bit more than was necessary.

Daniel, in Shelby's honest opinion, looked as though he should give up on trying to comb his hair over. He had sandy colored hair with a sandy beard to match, hidden within a sweater over a button down. She smiled brightly as she shook hands, trying to remember anything she could about him.

"You're the ones with the undergraduates," Shelby said,

"You make it sound like we have a harem and not a cohort," Daniel said, laughing.

"You're the only one out there looking at natural infection in humans. It's an inspired study."

"Oh, we finished that study last year. We're doing another enrolment in the fall though."

"I keep trying to get Alan to set up a study in Houston, it would be so interesting—"

"Don't give up all our good ideas now, Shelby," Alan interjected good-naturedly.

"I've just been interested in working on a human study," Shelby continued.

"Even so,” Daniel reassured her, “your talk earlier was wonderful. You have some clever theories."

"Are you trying to steal my student?" said Alan.

"Well, Tim and I are in negotiations with Hex-Immune on EBV vaccine. It would be nice to have an immunologist on the project. If she could stand moving to Minnesota.”

"You mean this year?" Shelby said, starting to feel a bit like a baseball player about to be traded away. "To work on your new enrolment?"

"Now, now," Alan interrupted. "Stop trying to poach poor Shelby from me. She's one of the best students I've ever had."

Shelby blushed proudly at the compliment; even if she hated being forced into science she could at least say she didn't do anything by half-heartedly.

"You should come pay us a visit and see if it’s your cup of tea.” Daniel shrugged. “Anyway, even if you don’t, the offer stands if you're interested for your postdoc, Shelby."

The discussion turned to more prosaic shoptalk, full of debates about paradigms and interesting new data from the Lawson lab, which continued at a leisurely pace until the men eventually drifted away to the bar and left Shelby with Fatin. Thoroughly done in after a day of travelling, speeches and not-boyfriends, she declined Fatin’s repeated offers of a night out and left for her hotel room.

+o+o

Shelby didn’t think of Daniel or his study with the undergraduates again until she and Alan were on the plane back to Texas. She was engrossed in an article, and it took some time for her to become aware that Alan was regarding her over the top edge of her phone. Folding the newspaper he hadn’t been reading, he laid it on the tray table in front of him.

"I suppose things have been dull in the lab with me nearing retirement," Alan said.

“You say that like EBV is ever exciting,” replied Shelby, without looking up.

“It could be.”

Shelby laughed. “Right, Alan.”

He rubbed the flat of his hand over the shiny skin of his bald spot. A nervous habit, but nonetheless remarkable because he usually only did it while making a serious decision, and it was then that Shelby paused, finally truly paying attention as her eyes travelled to his face.

Alan shrugged as he said, “Getting some real experience with a human study could only help your career.”

"What are you getting at?"

"I had a word with Daniel, you see.”

“The one from Minnesota?”

“Well, the timing is right. Working on Daniel's study is a rare opportunity in this field. I’m not sure I can offer you as much if you finish your degree with me."

“You’re serious?” asked Shelby.

“I think you should consider it.”

"And move up north? To his lab in the middle of nowhere?”

“Minneapolis is not the middle of nowhere.”

“I don't even know _where_ that is."

"It's in the middle of the country, just below Cana—" Alan trailed off as Shelby just raised her eyebrows at his impromptu geography session. "Daniel's been really keen on starting a vaccine trial. You could be an author on the efficacy study."

Shelby scowled at the prospect of a vaccine trial, but then smiled wryly because wouldn’t that piss her father off even more. Not only had she opted for an infectious disease project over cancer research, she might be on a vaccine trial. Instead of voicing her mixed feelings, she merely went on making disparaging remarks about her work.

"Yes, because preventing mono is clearly a world health priority," Shelby said sarcastically.

"And preventing lymphoma, carcinoma, autoimmune disease. Think of the good you could be doing. You said it yourself the other night, there's only so much you can do looking at cells in dishes."

"But it's in Minnesota."

"It would only be a few years. Four at most, if you’re unlucky.”

“I don’t _have_ four years, Alan. I want to finish my thesis sometime before I die.”

“Well, you could always ask for special dispensation. You could work on the trial and then you could come back and defend your thesis." Alan leaned forward and patted her forearm comfortingly. "At least think about it?"

Shelby nodded uncertainly. Sure, she'd think about it, or at least pretend to. So she could say _no_ with conviction if Alan asked her again.

+o+o

Yet when she was alone in her house, Alan’s words resonated. Maybe it was what she needed, the chance to get away from Houston and get a little perspective. Not to mention, Alan was right. Infectious disease researchers tended to come in three flavors: Those who worked only with cells, those who worked with mice, and those who worked with humans. Being involved with a high profile human study could only help her. The potential for good publications was much better than continuing her work in well plates, which only rarely recapitulated what actually happened in living, breathing people. She didn't know what to do, and she tossed half the night with indecision. In the end, she called the only person who she thought would understand.

"Shelby," Dot said roughly when she answered. "Do you know what time it is? Two in the fucking morning."

"Who in the hell is that?" Shelby could hear a sleepy voice complain.

"Shelby," Dot whispered, kissing the complainer softly. "I'll be right back, go back to sleep."

"I’m sorry," Shelby said after a few seconds. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just didn’t know who else to call.”

A whole minute of silence bore down on them before Dot broke the tension with a massive yawn.

"Alan wants me to take up collaborating with another lab."

"Well, that's good news, right? You’ve been wanting to get on another project for months."

"That's the problem. The vaccine trial is in another state."

"Like New York? Seattle?"

"No, in Minnesota."

“Fuck, Shelbs. That sounds cold.” Another beat. "What about Andrew?"

"What does it matter?"

"He left again, didn’t he?"

“I—not like I _care_. Just annoying, isn’t it?”

"Where to this time?"

"Kenya, apparently." Shelby took a deep breath. “What do you think I should do? There’s nothing worse than being a hypocrite.”

"I know," Dot yawned again before saying, "If you go, it has to be about you."

"Maybe…maybe it's time.”

"Sleep on it."

"I will." The corner of Shelby's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "Thanks, Dottie.”

"I’d say ‘any time’, but seriously next time, business hours, okay?”

+o+o

When Shelby awoke the next morning, twisted in the sheets of her bed, she felt possibly worse. She went through the motions of her morning, hoping it would solidify into something, as though performing the ritual could be her equivalent of gelatin cooling. She bathed and dressed in the dull gray pre-dawn and went down to acquire some coffee. As she sat outside her lab on a damp bench, she felt her phone buzz. A single text, from Andrew. _I'm sorry_. A bit late. He’d been gone for days. Why did Shelby care? Andrew going off to study malaria in Africa should have been the last thing on her mind. So she sent back all she could think to say. _You always are._

As she went to push her phone back into the pocket of her jeans she fumbled her coffee and it landed on the gravel footpath with a splash. The hot liquid soaked quickly into the ground, leaving the pale stones steaming in the morning chill. It was almost like the heat of the earth had breached its confines at that very spot, a tiny geothermal spring. It was just coffee, less than two dollars of hot water and beans, but the loss of it broke the final dam of resistance like a wave and she began to laugh. She laughed until the raw ache that threatened to close her airway eased, until her face was wet and streaked with her tears, until she couldn't anymore. A few passersby cast her look of concern or perhaps it was confusion, even derision. She didn't move or flinch for several long minutes, completely motionless until she couldn't tell where the coffee had fallen anymore and the wind threatened to blow the cup away. Sighing, Shelby retrieved the little paper thing, wiping the droplets from her shaking fingers onto her jeans. A waste. She checked her watch, and headed inside, casting her empty cup into a trash can as she passed.

She couldn't help but laugh again when she caught sight of herself in the mirror; God, it had been years since her make up had last looked so wretched in public. She wiped at the places her mascara had run until she resembled something approximating normal. She straightened up and left the restroom, her mind made up. The hum of her labmates in the upper corridor met her ears. Head held high, she walked toward Alan’s office.

It was how she decided to get out of Houston.

Only to end up in Minneapolis, which turned out to be the coldest place on earth.


	2. Chapter 2

If the trial period Daniel had suggested had even been possible, Shelby would liked to have seen Minneapolis. Maybe worked in the lab for a bit to see if a cross country relocation was really worth all the effort. Unfortunately, research appointments were tricky things and even with considerable assistance from both universities it took a few months for the paperwork to be approved. As it was, she arrived in Minnesota just an unusually mild winter was easing, with forty-two separate documents describing the study and its procedures, but without a clue as to where she was going or what she was doing with her life.

Struggling in baggage claim with her suitcases, she glanced around for Daniel, but he was nowhere to be found among the sea of expectant faces. After ten minutes, she checked her phone, suddenly afraid that he’d forgotten her or gotten the date wrong. There were no messages. The ones she did have correctly affirmed that afternoon as her arrival time. She realized with a start that she didn’t even have his phone number; they’d corresponded entirely by video chat and email. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t have easily made her own way into the city, being Shelby, being _Goodkind_ , but being met by Daniel was preferable to being left to her own devices in a new city.

Just when she had resigned herself to giving up, an extremely disheveled looking woman tore across the baggage reclaim level, literally sliding to a halt near the lift. She hastily pushed her dark hair out of her face, ripping the cap from a pen with her teeth. She paused for an instant, obviously searching for something to write on, cursed volubly from behind the cap, and grumbled as she opted for the only surface available (her hand), only to discover her pen had run dry and didn’t have any ink. Shoulders slumping, the woman sighed. If Shelby had cause to look on curiously, then she had more cause a few seconds later. The woman hesitantly approached the closest person and waved.

“Uh, hi,” she said awkwardly. “Are you from Texas? Sorry. Sorry.” She walked to the next person. “Texan?” And the next. “Did you just get here from Texas?” Then to the room at large, in a voice that trembled with unease, “Hey, anybody here Shelby? Shelby Goodkind?”

Shelby sprang up at the sound of her own name, then smiled uncertainly. The woman sighed in relief as she trotted over.

“Oh my God,” the woman exclaimed. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Shelby replied. “I’ve only been waiting a few minutes. Did Daniel send you?”

“Yeah, it was sort of a last-minute mess.”

Smiling, Shelby extended her hand. “And you are?”

“Oh! Yes. Uh, I’m Nora. Reid. Nora Reid. Hi.”

They shook hands for an altogether uncomfortable length of time until Shelby coughed politely. Blanching, Nora jerked her hand away, wiping it seemingly by habit on the thigh of her pants before flinching again. She darted away after another painful pause, flipping her useless pen into a nearby garbage before returning.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were coming.” Nora hefted one of Shelby’s suitcases, composure only flickering momentarily as its weight nearly toppled her. “If you come with me, I’ll drive you back to campus. I’m really am sorry about being late. Daniel just told me like five whole minutes ago. I came straight down.”

Shelby scuttled in Nora’s wake. “Did he tell the lab I was coming?”

“The guy is a hot mess, let me tell you.”

“And you’re…?” She prompted as they walked. “Daniel’s…Wife?”

“What! Ugh, no. Ew. He’s almost old enough to be my dad.” Nora shuddered. “No, I’m a medical fellow. The other clinician, actually.”

“You’re a _doctor_?”

“Why do people always look so surprised when I say that?”

Shelby paused, offering a contrite smile. “You just look more PhD than physician.”

“Thank you?” She glanced up at Shelby. “Wait. Like in a good way or a bad way?”

“Are you training with Daniel then?”

“Sort of. Daniel shares his lab—hey, don’t change the subject.”

“You just…don’t look like a jerk,” Shelby replied.

“Oh. Yay.” Then recovering herself like nothing had happened, Nora went on, “Daniel shares his lab with Tim. A pediatrician, actually. MD not PhD, just in case you were wondering. For jerk purposes.”

Shelby laughed as an ironic grin twisted her mouth. “Fair enough.”

+o+o

Over the following weeks she slowly integrated herself with the Minnesotans. She was surprised to learn that Tim actually intended to retire very shortly, withdrawing by the summer from the active research to leave the lab and the vaccine primarily with Daniel. So it was under those conditions that Shelby became the trainee immunologist on the fourth iteration of the Minnesotan pre-vaccine study, monitoring acquisition of primary infectious mononucleosis in university students. In the autumn they would recruit only first year students in a frantic two-week bonanza of bribes and blood draws. Okay, technically the bribes were called "honorariums" and they were all very proper and approved by ethics committees. The study participants would then come to give them blood every two weeks and fill in an "activity" questionnaire. Yes, the questionnaire asked _those_ types of question and yes, it was exactly as awkward as it sounds.

It was all to help them design a better vaccine schedule, as though anyone but unlucky adolescents really cared about the progress of that research. But it did matter. EBV was oncogenic. It contributed to autoimmune disease. And sometimes the mono was severe enough to send a participant to hospital. Besides, maybe it was her chance to carve out a niche of her own in a place where no one knew her, where she could be just _Shelby_ , and earn things by her own merit. Yet somehow even moving to an entirely different continent apparently hadn’t sufficiently separated her from Andrew.

"Shelby… Shelby… Earth to Shelby."

Shelby jumped and swung away from her laptop to a questioning look from Nora, her finger extended toward the wall clock.

"The reception started fifteen minutes ago. Are you coming?"

Conflicted, Shelby nodded as she rose. Anyway, how many more times could she look at those pictures of Andrew and his new girlfriend? Why had she stayed Facebook friends with him? Clearly to discover vacation photos halfway through her work day and proceed to torture herself with the knowledge that all he needed was a couple months and some space in order to find himself someone new to date. She was a stunning United Nations policy advisor with a genuinely preposterous number of letters after her name. A miserable mixture of inadequacy and jealousy bubbled through her chest. She didn't even want to be with him. So why did it hurt so much? She felt winded, like he had sucker punched her in the ribs.

Nora touched Shelby’s shoulder again, drawing her attention. "Are you ready?”

Shelby merely looked shell-shocked.

"What’s up, Goodkind?" Nora said, more gently.

"Nothing.”

Together they made their way out of Tim's basement lab toward the tunnel system. Tim's retirement celebration was in the student union, which could be reached without going out into the brisk air. Shelby still got lost trying to navigate her way through, missing her turns and ending up in horror film-esque white tiled portions of the old hospital. Nora was with her, however, and soon enough they entered the food service area of the student union, ascending several floors to the Campus Club. Tim was standing in the doorway, greeting everyone enthusiastically as they approached.

"Hello there, girls!" he chirped cheerily. "Come inside, very good to see you."

Tim was a big name in the clinical virology field, and his fifty years of service during his tenure at the University of Minnesota had made him a well-known figure. There were people everywhere, but Shelby was only able to recognize a few of them; namely, the lab staff and the nurses from the clinic. As it was, Shelby stayed close to Nora when they meandered over to the bar, the smaller woman's form cutting a swathe in the crowd like the prow of a ship. Nora leaned casually against the polished surface.

"What do you want?" Nora asked.

"Water’s fine," said Shelby.

Not seeming to like that response very much, Nora turned to the bartender and held up two fingers. "Two tequilas please."

Shelby’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, um. It’s just—I don’t drink. Alcohol.”

The bartender brought them back two shots of Sauza, the glasses wet with droplets where they had been overfilled. Nora eyed her curiously as she pushed the shot in Shelby’s direction.

“This is coming from a place of love,” said Nora, “but I think you could use a drink.”

“Well…I suppose one wouldn’t hurt.” Not even waiting for the lime, Shelby took the shot with a grimace, coughing into her elbow as the liquor caught her off guard.

"That’s not—oh, okay. Interesting tactic.”

Shelby struggled, not wanting to admit that Andrew had actually like, hurt her feelings. "Have you ever broken up with someone, and you don't…actually care anymore, but seeing them with someone else still hurts?"

"Is that why you were sitting there like someone killed your dog?"

Shelby nodded slowly, deciding to indulge in a bit of self-pity. "My ex Andrew."

"The asshole with the malaria project."

"I don’t think I ever called him—"

"The asshole was clearly implied. Randoms or commitment?"

"New girlfriend."

Nora frowned skeptically. “This guy doesn’t sound like you were a good fit anyway.”

“He started playing the saxophone!”

“What? How old is he?”

“Twenty-five! And he picks up the saxophone.”

Nora pressed the other shot into Shelby's hand, and almost like it was a reflex more than a decision, Shelby drank that one, too. The brilliant glow of the late afternoon sun slowly filtered from the room until the view from the high windows revealed the steady lights in the cityscape of downtown Minneapolis beyond. By the time Tim came to the bar while making the rounds with the guests, Shelby was far gone and talked about as often to a spotted ficus in the corner as she did to Nora.

"Well, she looks like she's having fun," Tim commented.

"You know, trying to send you off in agave scented style," Nora replied, as Shelby weaved slightly where she stood. "I think I'm going to get her to sit down."

Taking Shelby by the hand, she led her to where the two clinic nurses were sitting with some undergrads around a table. Plonking Shelby unceremoniously in a chair, she cast a look at all of them before turning to get Shelby some water. Or some coffee. Or both. Shelby, for her part, leaned forward, planting her chin firmly in her upturned hand, waving vaguely at the nurses before looking rather taken aback when she noticed the undergrads. The one was Martha, Daniel’s third year undergraduate. She bounced as she said hello to Shelby.

“Hi, Shelby,” she said brightly.

“Hi, Martha,” Shelby replied, her voice somewhere between a drawl and slur. “It’s so nice to see you.”

The other she did not know, a small wiry brunette in a flannel shirt, lounging carelessly in her corner like a marionette with her strings cut. She tipped her head a fraction, fixing Shelby with dark eyes. No, that wasn't right. Shelby did know the girl. The memory floated hazily just out of reach and then she remembered. She was one of the _participants_ from the study. Shelby had seen her occasionally in clinic. Since when did the volunteers get invited to departmental events like some kind of twisted thank you? We're all dying for you to get mono, come eat some free food?

"You're in the study," Shelby stated idiotically.

“Aren’t you supposed to not ask me that?” the girl asked. “Isn’t it like an ethics violation or some shit?”

This girl being enough of a social recluse to be in the study was all wrong. Even in the recesses of Shelby’s tequila addled brain, the other girl radiated an unusual confidence, and the incongruity bothered her sufficiently that it filled the whole yard of chipboard space between them. How could she have avoided acquiring the virus?

"But…how? You have to be negative for EBV.”

The girl leaned back in her chair, pushing it onto two legs. “Yeah, I’m just as confused as you about that.”

“It’s just—you’d have to live under a rock.”

“So you’re positive then.”

Shelby shook her head slowly, too drunk to notice the tension in the other members of their odd quintet. “I…don’t know to be honest.”

"I don’t live under a rock if that’s what you’re asking me.”

“Toni,” Martha said quietly.

Toni looked like she was about to say something else, when Nora returned.

"These are for you," Nora said as she put down a paper cup of water and a plastic cup of coffee in front of Shelby.

Losing interest in Toni, Shelby flung a hand out to take one of the cups, but her motor functions were not equal to the task and she sent the coffee flying all over the table. As the dark stain spread over the tablecloth, the nurses leapt up to find towels. Toni merely pushed back in her chair, her expression mildly exasperated, and then just as quickly, disinterested in the whole affair. Standing up with a stretch Toni pulled her bag over her shoulder.

“You should let her sober up,” Toni said matter of factly. “She’s wasted.”

She laid a quick kiss on the top of Martha's head and slunk off into the crowd.

"What was that about?" asked Nora.

"What was what about?" muttered Shelby.

"What did you do to Toni?"

"What’s a Toni?"

"Dark hair? Just left?"

When had Nora learned all the goddamn participants by name? Shelby started to say something, but was interrupted by Martha.

"Shelby couldn't believe Toni is EBV negative," Martha piped up helpfully, folding the edges of the tablecloth over the spilled coffee.

"Way to basically call her a slut," Nora said laughing. “Or a virgin. I'm not sure which is worse."

"What?" Shelby spluttered. "I didn’t…did I?”

"Come on. Just for that, I'll get you another drink."

+o+o

When Shelby woke up the next morning, a large part of her protesting body wished she were dead. Between her hangover, Andrew, and faint memories of embarrassing herself the night before, she honestly wanted to pull her pillow over her head and never get out of bed again. But there were lab meetings to be attended and experiments to do, so with extreme reluctance she forced herself into the shower. One of the only good things about being David Goodkind's daughter was being able to live like she wasn't scraping by on a student stipend. Her apartment was a palatial renovation in the Washburn Crosby Utility building above Saint Anthony falls. It was an unnecessary indulgence of her vanity with its large rooms and granite surfaces, full of light and airy.

She rifled through her embarrassingly large walk in closet, before settling on a pair of heels and a pencil skirt. Her commitment to looking halfway decent earned her a fair amount of ribbing from her fellow sloppy scientists who turned up for work wearing hoodies and jeans, but she'd given up enough for her career. No reason her wardrobe should suffer as well. Forty minutes later, she strode down the basement level of the medical building, her heels clicking authoritatively on the floor, and sending a shockwave of pain behind her eyes with each step. Nora's grin when she got to her desk almost made her turn right around and walk back out of the lab.

"You look how I feel," she quipped.

"Not another word," Shelby threatened, slumping into her chair without removing her sunglasses.

"Go get some coffee before lab meeting, Bono."

It was sound advice, even if it was coming from Nora Reid, bringer of hangovers. So she went to the Caribou just on the other side of the light rail platform and got herself the largest cup of coffee she could manage. The clinic where lab meeting was held was a conversion of what had been the accident and emergency centre for the university hospital back in the 80's. It was not a shining example of the types of clinics you got to see in films that looked like they had been kitted out by IKEA, all glass and stainless steel and light-colored wood. The virology clinic was dull and close with no windows, and more often than not, cold. The rooms were full of metal filing cabinets with chipping paint, paper records of all the studies the clinic had ever seen, clean but colorless.

Shelby was the last one into the clinic. The rest of the group sat around a long table at the end of the corridor of exam rooms, beside the high curved counter of the former nurses' station. As she skirted to the opposite side to take a free chair (they were plastic and green and uncomfortable as hell), she noticed with a start that in Tim's place at the head of the table sat that girl from the night before, whatever her name was. Toni. Not that she had been expecting to see Tim, him being retired and all, but she thought Daniel might take that place up since he was running the show.

She'd gone from only seeing glimpses of Toni in passing to sitting with her twice in two days. Toni didn't even normally _go_ to lab meetings, hence why Shelby didn't know her, but there she sat at the head of the table like the queen of clinic. Just then, Daniel cleared his throat and called them to order. Toni pulled out her iPad and sat glancing between the screen and Daniel as he got started, her face so intent and alert it didn't even seem like she was being rude not to give him her full attention.

"Right," he said happily. "I've had some splendid news that you'll all be glad to hear. Oh, but first, Toni, good to see you today. You usually have a class or something at this time?"

Of course, somebody introduced Toni _after_ Shelby made a fool of herself. Clearly not just a study participant then.

Toni nodded very seriously. “Yeah, my class was canceled this morning.”

Daniel continued on making updates on various clinic initiatives that Shelby was not involved with, and more than once she realized she was staring at the girl. Toni had an intense gaze, very direct and focused, split just about equally between whoever was speaking and the tablet. Shelby was so mesmerized with watching her, she almost jumped when Toni turned her head and looked directly at her with an intensity that made her distinctly uncomfortable.

"…run into a bit of a hiccup with the acquiring the vaccine for the trial," Daniel said, drawing Shelby's concentration back to him.

"What?" Shelby said loudly.

"I got notice yesterday that someone's bought the patent from Hex-Immune. A small startup company acquired it."

"And where does that leave us?"

"Well, it does pose a _slight_ delay. But assuming they still want to work with us, it shouldn’t be too long."

Taking into account what amounted to _not_ be a “slight delay,” Daniel enumerated the rough timeline. They would be going through Institutional Review Board approvals through the spring to make sure the study was done safely and with informed consent from the patients. The legal portions of it would be completed in collaboration with lawyers from the start up and intellectual property representatives from the University. That bit actually made Shelby more nervous, because even GoodkindTaylorWise engaged regulatory consultants to navigate all the guidelines. They would enroll in approximately eighteen months. It would similar to an enrolment Shelby would work on in the interim as a pre-clinical study, the study that should have been the beginning of the vaccine trial.

But all of those plans were contingent on the new company wanting to play, whoever they were. Hex-Immune would have provided much of the funding, but no doubt the startup wouldn't have that kind of capital. When the meeting ended, Shelby sat stock still in her chair, while the others milled about talking. Either way, it added another year. Another year and another waste of her time.

She reached blindly for her mostly untouched coffee before standing up, completely distracted by the fact that the vaccine trial might not actually happen at all; or perhaps just as bad, may happen too late for her doctoral research. As chance would have it, Toni preceded her as they exited the clinic. Her unrushed saunter aggravated Shelby's anxious mood almost as much as the girl's outfit offended her fashion sense. Shelby was about to step impatiently around her, when, with no warning, Toni wheeled, smacking straight into her with a muffled grunt as they collided. Shelby grabbed at Toni's shoulders to keep herself from being knocked down entirely.

At first, there was something like a smirk on Toni’s face, insouciant and self-satisfied, but then her gaze fell to the floor between them. Toni's fallen tablet sat in the puddle of coffee like an electronic island in a sea of Guatemalan dark roast. Shelby stared at her in disbelief, face speckled with droplets. Even in the terrible fluorescent lighting, the undergrad's eyes were that penetrating, unnatural in their intensity. For a few moments, they were motionless, while the other few people in the hallway gave them a wide berth. The spell was broken though when Toni knelt down to pick the iPad up. She swore softly when she turned it in her hands and examined a long jagged crack running down the center of the black touch screen.

“Fuck,” Toni hissed.

Shaking a little of the coffee of it, she suddenly looked up at Shelby with raised eyebrows. The skinny undergrad's expression was so complicated Shelby felt more than saw it, the press slowly squeezing the air from her chest.

“Look, it was an accident,” Shelby began. “I’m sure I can—“

Toni stood up slowly, chin tilted back as she maintained eye contact before she pivoted and walked down the tunnel. The squeaking of her wet Converse echoed off the walls, the soles leaving a pattern of footprints in her wake.

"Hey, where are you going?" Shelby called after her.

It _was_ Toni's fault, so why the hell was she the one left with the mess?

"Okay, it's official," Nora said from her left. "You're banned from drinking coffee ever again. What happened?"

"That girl Toni!"

"So she…grabbed your coffee and smashed it on the floor?"

"No, she ran into—it doesn't matter. Look at my shoes."

"Do I have to tell you again that you can't work in a lab without getting bleached—"

"Stained, stabbed or vomited on. Yeah." Shelby rolled her eyes, then after a moment, “Reckon we ought to clean this up?"

"What are we going to do, escape from the scene of the crime?"

They spent some time sourcing paper towels from the clinic, with Shelby awkwardly crouched soaking it up while Nora steered the foot traffic around her in the manner of an overzealous traffic warden. Eventually, with the puddle mostly dry, they fled from the spilled coffee, hurrying along through the tunnels back to their lab. When Shelby checked her email there was a group update from Daniel. Normally, she didn't pay much mind to the other three dozen addresses the emails were sent to, but for some reason she ran down the list with her cursor. There, nearly at the bottom, was Toni's. Her surname was Shalifoe.

+o+o

Shelby had to wait two days to phone Dot since she was determined to honor Dot’s request of only calling during business hours and by the time Shelby got home from lab in the evenings it was usually nine or ten PM. As the line rang, Shelby marveled at the fact that she always seemed to remember Dot’s number, but still clicked TX instead of MN like an idiot every time she ordered a reagent. She was out on the terrace of her apartment, watching the icy Mississippi River flow by just above the arcing curve of the Stone Arch Bridge, the masoned limestone pale in the morning light. Dot picked up on the fourth ring with a shuffle of papers.

“GoodkindTaylorWise,” Dot said. “Dorothy Campbell speaking.”

“You always sound so official,” Shelby replied, laughing. “Miss Big Corporate Lawyer.”

“Shelby, oh thank God it’s you. I seriously thought I was going to have to spend the next hour on the phone with the state commissioner.”

“Just look really concentrated and spend the next hour on the phone with me instead.”

“I’ll take that deal. Pick a topic. Any topic.”

"Well, someone bought the vaccine patent.”

"Who bought what?"

"Someone bought the EBV vaccine patent from Hex-I. Did you know that was happening?"

"Shit, Shelby. No. I’ve been putting out fires for another lawsuit all week."

Shelby grimaced. "Sorry. Are you all right?"

"Just tired. How have you been doing?"

Shelby tensed, waiting a few seconds before saying, "Andrew has a new girlfriend."

"Yeah, Fatin said."

"Is she still hanging around with him?"

"Shelby, they work together. I don't think Fatin is exactly best friends with him. I know me saying this won't help much, but you were always too good for him."

"Of course I am," Shelby replied, even though it was almost all bluster.

Dot knew Shelby too well. Her voice was sad and sympathetic. "I'm here if you need me."

"Yeah."

"Is there…anyone else on the horizon?"

Shelby almost laughed. "I'd say I spend most of my time with a small doctor."

"And?"

"The doctor is a she and married to her lab bench."

"Dating in Minnesota sounds rough.”

The chill of the air began to get to her, sending a ripple of gooseflesh up her arms. Shelby slipped back into her apartment, closing the door behind her.

"Do you think I should call my dad?" she said.

"Like, socially?" Dot hazarded.

Shelby bit her lip. “I don’t want him to know about the vaccine. I _know_ he’ll do something to ‘help’ and it’s just about the worst thing I can think of.”

"I'll let his secretary know you're still alive."

"Thanks.”

"Are you not coming home any time soon then?"

“No, it’s controversial, but I thought I’d give working a chance for a while.”


	3. Chapter 3

Shelby felt better until she went to a faculty interview that afternoon. Part of the interview process for new faculty involved a public lecture on the candidate's previous research. Shelby arrived in the theatre a bit early, the seats descending down into a dark pit style hall. In the very back row several of the undergrads from the clinic had assembled and were talking to one another in hushed voices. Among them sat Martha, her bag clutched in her arms like she was afraid it was going to make a break for it. Shelby moved down another row or two and sat along the aisle. She couldn't have been there more than a minute or two when Nora squeezed past her and took the seat on her left.

"For you," Nora said, holding out a cup of some hot liquid.

"Coffee or tea?" Shelby asked, accepting the cup.

"Tea, just in case."

Shelby rolled her eyes, but still glanced suspiciously over her shoulder just to make sure that girl Toni wasn't anywhere in proximity. Just when Shelby thought she was in the clear, a lean figure in an oversized hoodie sank down beside Martha, pulling out a notebook from her backpack. It was a change of pace from the iPad, which, Shelby remembered with a twinge, was ruined. Martha said something to Toni, and Toni replied laughing before returning to the notebook. There was writing on the back page, but the writing was far too small for Shelby to make out at the distance. As though she could tell someone was watching her, Toni's eyes cut down to Shelby immediately without moving her head. Her expression didn't change but Toni deliberately held Shelby's gaze until, unnerved, Shelby turned back to the front. She hastily handed back the tea.

"What?" Nora said.

"Just…keep this over there."

The speaker was setting up behind the podium. Just the man's bearing set Shelby's teeth on edge, and her premonition was justified as the presentation began. He was the worst sort of specimen, arrogant and over-confident, probably an Ivy League trained physician who seemed to think he was God's gift to research. He also clearly hadn't practiced, relying on a combination of experience and bravado to carry him through. Shelby had her own private battles with public speaking, but if she hated anything, she hated having her time wasted, especially since he managed to be simultaneously condescending and wrong. If she’d been the type to dress down him down in public, she might have raised her hand, but she felt too much misplaced sympathy to torture him. Speaking was hard enough. To her surprise, it was Toni’s hand that flew into the air.

“Yes,” the speaker said, pointing toward the back row.

“Hi,” Toni replied with her voice raised high enough for him to hear. “I’m not an expert or anything but I had a question about your model.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“That drug you’re using to make the nerve cells grow. Do you ever see anything weird happen?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by weird?”

“I don’t know. That thing where the nerves grow in a little ball?”

“I’m not familiar with this phenomenon.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” Nora muttered. Then aloud, to the group, “Like a neuroma?”

Toni nodded, gesturing down to Nora. “Yeah. Like a neuroma.”

“Neuromas really shouldn’t happen in this model because—”

“Yeah, but have you looked for it?”

He fumbled through another half-hearted explanation that didn’t really make any sense in the context of the question, but then he was a _neurologist_ and should have been able to say something cogent about his specialty. Eventually he ground to a halt, clearing his throat pointedly.

“No,” he admitted. “We haven’t looked at that.”

“Sounds like you should,” said Toni.

Beside Shelby, Nora’s silent laughter subtly brushed her arm. When the lecture ended, Nora cast a conflicted look at the back of the hall equal parts reproachful and amused.

"I really got the impression Toni liked him," she said sarcastically.

"You know, I kind of agree with her," Shelby said. " _Physicians_. Half of them act like they single-handedly come up with every good treatment, like PhDs don't do most of the groundwork."

"You know I'm an MD right?"

"Whatever, he was a jerk."

“Ah, yes. How could I forget the jerk scale?”

Toni lingered at the top of the stairs as she shrugged her jacket on. She leveled an unreadable look at Shelby, the dark of her eyes almost black in the low light, before turning on her heel and walking out.

+o+o

Shelby stood at her bench pipetting some viscous liquid into a tube. The DNA was too concentrated and was proving uncooperative, refusing to be taken up into the plastic tip. Shelby was adding another fifty microliters of buffer to the preparation, when in a corner of her peripheral vision she saw that skinny undergrad again. Toni was with Martha who rattled on actively to Nora some distance away, but Toni wasn't even looking at either of them while she took in the layout of the lab. There were eight sets of black composite lab benches, with the four spaces between the benches called bays. Shelving units were set up between the bench pairs, high enough so that you could see the person at the bench across from you unless you really hated whoever it was and hung a poster or something in the way. Numerous centrifuges, refrigerators and freezers lined the walls, their collective hum filling the lab with a thick fog of white noise.

Shelby wondered why Martha was in the lab with Toni exactly, because the clinic staff did not work in the lab and Toni already knew where the blood samples from the clinic got dropped off. That's where she'd seen Toni before, moving past the bay she shared with Nora to leave her own blood in the inbox. Shelby by then knew her subject identifier or SID without needing to look it up. SID 7089 TS, even though the lab staff were only supposed to work with de-identified samples, without being able to associate the SID with a name. After parting with Nora, Martha searched fruitlessly through some of the notebooks for a while, eventually approaching Shelby.

"Daniel wants us to do something paperwork-y," Martha said. "Do you know where the cell count books are?"

"Do you want the complete blood counts or the manual processing counts?" asked Shelby.

"Um…both? I'm not really sure what those are."

Shelby closed the snapcap on her last 1.5-milliliter tube. Both girls waited at the end of her bench, Toni watching Shelby as she laid down her pipetteman.

“What’s that?” Toni asked, pointing to the instrument.

“It’s a pipette,” Shelby replied.

She half turned away, starting to reach for the count books, when she turned back. She snapped her gloves off and beamed her brightest smile at Toni, extending her hand.

“Toni, right?” she asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’d love it if we could start over. I’m Shelby Goodkind.”

Not looking impressed in the slightest, Toni shrugged, merely glancing at the outstretched manicure without shaking it. “I know who you are.”

“Oh, well, then I reckon Martha’s told you about me.”

Toni laughed, but there was something mirthless about it that finally persuaded Shelby to withdraw her hand. “Your company did thirty-three billion dollars in revenue last year. We know who you are.”

“You know, that’s a big misunderstanding when people meet me for the first time. If I owned GTW, do you think I’d be here moving around small volumes of liquid for a living?”

Toni looked at her designer shoes and her perfect makeup and the keys of her Maserati on the benchtop. “Sure. Slumming it with the little people.”

Rolling her eyes, Martha intervened. “We do still need those numbers. The CBCs?”

"The complete blood counts then," Shelby said.

After a moment of hesitation, Toni’s gaze left Shelby and shifted to Martha, her expression tinged with expectant inquiry but somewhat…affectionate? Shelby couldn't quite make out the nuance that softened her set jaw. Shelby separated the requisite binders on the bench in front of Martha, flipping through the pages until she reached the middle.

“Here they are,” Shelby announced. “Let me know if I can help while you’re here.”

Toni didn’t _say_ anything, but unless her ears quite deceived her, Shelby heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff.

"If you two are going to stay in here, you need to tie up your hair," she added, pointing to Toni's wavy brunette mane.

The girl smirked, and Shelby almost made them put on lab coats, too, but Toni pulled an elastic from around her slender wrist and swept her hair up with a little flourish, her eyes never leaving Shelby's face. What was her problem exactly? Shelby hadn’t been anything but nice. The two stayed at the end of her bench looking up numbers for the next hour, making a strange pair. They stayed hard at the task, Martha reading resolutely aloud to Toni while she made notes. When Nora came out of the cell culture room, she paused nearby, leaning over Martha’s shoulder to see what they were doing.

“’A good decision is based on knowledge and not on numbers,’” she pronounced solemnly.

Toni frowned, cracking a confused smile. “What?”

“That’s Plato.”

“Wouldn’t knowledge and numbers be the same in this case?”

“Yeah, but what does your gut tell you?”

“That Plato needs to stay in his lane. If we were doing this the Greek way we’d have dogs licking our wounds at the hospital.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Martha said.

“Aren’t dogs supposed to have healing saliva or something?”

“There’s limited evidence of antimicrobial properties,” affirmed Nora. “But that’s all saliva. Even human saliva.”

“Don’t lick your patients, Nora.”

“What can I say? If it works, it works.”

Martha finally laughed, going back to the binders with Toni as Nora sat down at her desk. Shelby's only consolation when they left was that she was glad the girls worked in the clinic and not in the lab. As she piled the count books up to reshelve, she spotted a green Post-it stuck to the front of one, scrawled upon in smeared Sharpie. _Greek dogs??_ it read, and Shelby found herself half-smiling in bewilderment before balling it up and throwing it away.

+o+o

It wasn't until the next day that Shelby turned to Nora where they sat back to back in their bay, thinking on the aggressive little undergrad who apparently made her some kind of coffee destroying deviant based on a sample size of two, which wasn't even enough for error bars. Toni was just some kid she didn't know, probably only eighteen or nineteen. The girl had barely spoken ten sentences to her, and yet somehow Toni had burrowed annoyingly under her skin.

"So, Toni," Shelby said slowly. "I mean, she's kind of…a lot, don’t you think?"

"No, I think she does really well," Nora answered, no trace of irony in her voice. "Why?"

Shelby waited for Nora to meet her gaze, to see if she was joking. She wasn't. Shelby shook her head, going back to her spreadsheet, mystified.

"Sorry. No reason."

+o+o

Alan Dawes (bcm.edu)  
To: Shelby Goodkind (umn.edu)  
RE: Vaccine Trial Delays

Don't worry just yet. Wait and see what the new company wants. It might be better than working with a giant like Hex-Immune. There’s no great shame in taking another year to finish.

Alan

+o+o

It was Martha, oddly enough, who acted as social captain and rounded them up to go out Friday night for some sort of mid-term revel.

"We work together, so that means we should be friends and go out," Martha told her as though it were a foregone conclusion.

Shelby and Nora exchanged a look that clearly implied they thought they were going to be like a pair of old spinsters hanging out with the small army of undergraduates from the clinic, but Shelby couldn't help laughing at the oblivious expression on Martha's face. So she said yes, of course, and it was decided. It started out fairly innocuously, with the five undergrads, sans Toni (small mercy), who Martha said had to work. How many jobs did she have? They arranged a place to go, and on Friday, Shelby and Nora met the girls outside the clinic, traveling by mass transit to downtown.

They ended up in some bar or other, rubbing elbows with middle management types recently unleashed from their boring office lives. The decor put Shelby in mind of country bars she'd visited while on vacation with her parents, the bar itself gleaming walnut with mirrored shelves, the floor interspersed with high tops and candlelit snugs. Nora and Martha flanked Shelby's sides where they sat together at a table, the other four girls completing their group. Shelby was distracted from her admiration of the copper paneling in the ceiling by Martha vigorously rifling around in her handbag for something.

It turned out to be a Wisconsin driver’s license, which struck Shelby as strange because she knew Martha was a Minnesota native. And it said her name was Wendy Wesker. Okay, a fake then. Shelby turned, blanching.

"They’re all underage," Shelby muttered in an undertone to Nora, who just gave Shelby an unconcerned shrug.

"You're not in your coffin yet, grandma," Nora replied. "You can always run off to your knitting after a drink or two."

"One, and that's all. She's twenty for heaven's sake!"

But that was the trouble with alcohol, drinks begot more drinks. Before they knew it Nora had convinced them all to have not one, but two rounds of shots, of whisky no less. Then it was downhill from there, with the girls consuming a variety of mixed drinks and pints with Nora in a celebratory fervor. Shelby, sensing at least one of them should attempt to be sober-ish, switched to water.

The others were all drunk and giggling like idiots when they stumbled out of the bar at midnight. Nora and two of the girls wisely decided they'd had enough and flagged a taxi. Martha, however, somehow persuaded the other undergrads to stay with her, and Shelby followed suit. They wandered together down the street until Martha insisted they join the queue for a dingy looking club called “The Saloon” the music vibrating the concrete until Shelby could feel it in her teeth. Their approach to the entrance was a slow one, but eventually the four of them entered after Shelby paid their cover. Inside was a dark cavern of people packed from wall to wall, lights and lasers flashing overhead.

"This is the place where Toni works," Martha shouted as they slipped through the double doors. "We can visit her!"

"Toni works here?" said Shelby.

The pulsating bass drowned out whatever Martha was trying to say in response. Shelby tried to hang onto her hand, but a moment later they were separated by the ebb and flow of the bodies in the crowd. As it was, she was too sober; she felt sweaty and claustrophobic with the crush of strangers surging around her so she thrust her way through until she could find a seat at the bar. Whatever happened, she wouldn't leave Martha alone there with two other drunk girls to watch out for her. After a considerable time gesturing and screaming she managed to convey to the bartender that she wanted a soda, and she sat sipping it while she scanned the crowd for evidence of Martha. She checked her phone. Two texts from Nora, one from Dot via Fatin, one from her mother of all people, and a plethora of unanswered work emails that needed to be addressed. Not that she’d ever been much of a partier, but she felt old, thinking about experiments rather than having fun. She looked again for Martha, eager to be away.

Instead, amazingly, she found Toni. Dark eyes and rumpled hair, so small between the taller figures Shelby was kind of surprised she’d spotted her at all. Shelby saw her in intermittent glimpses, moving ghostlike and apparently in the middle of some kind of vehement disagreement with a young man in a polo. Repeatedly, he attempted to grab her arm and turn her, but Toni slithered her way deeper onto the dance floor, evading him. When he latched onto her wrist, she spun angrily to face him. They exchanged several rough shoves and looked seconds from outright blows when two huge doormen carrying torches separated them.

In all the confusion, as they dragged the boy in the polo away, the lights distracted Shelby and Toni vanished. Could the girl go nowhere without causing some kind of minor disaster? Shelby searched vainly for anyone she recognized. Just when she was about to give up, one of the other undergrads, Leah, swerved up to Shelby and tugged anxiously on her sleeve. She tried to say something over the noise, but all Shelby was really able to comprehend was that whatever it was it was urgent.

Next she knew she was being dragged into the unisex toilet like she was about to have a clandestine rendezvous with someone incredibly sketchy. The stalls had once been painted green but they were covered in graffiti. Not a single one had a door and everything was disgustingly and suspiciously wet. Collapsed in the corner, lay Martha, her eyes rolled so far back in her head all that was visible were the whites. Shelby immediately dropped to her knees beside her, heedless of the fact her tights were soaking up some unidentifiable substance.

"What did she take?" Shelby asked in a commanding voice.

"I don't know," Leah said, sounding terrified.

"Martha. Martha!"

Martha grunted and shifted, eyes flickering briefly into focus, and then she was out again, writhing slightly under Shelby's grip. A slow steady torrent of brand names left Shelby's lips as she shook her head and took a deep breath. She knew a thing or two about classes of pharmaceuticals. Her father had once tried to make her memorize the Physicians Desk Reference. On most other nights, that exercise hadn’t benefited her in the slightest, but suddenly she was grateful for the knowledge. Whatever Martha had taken it looked like she was in for a long night. Ketamine maybe, or some other tranquilizer. Shelby maneuvered herself beneath Martha's arm and tried to help her up, but she was almost entirely dead weight. Undeterred, Shelby pushed with all her strength because whatever else happened, Martha could not be left on the filthy floor. They needed to get her out of there.

"Leah, help me," Shelby growled.

Suddenly, Shelby managed to scramble to her feet and there on the other side of Martha was Leah, drunk but helping. Her gaze was listless and unfocused yet she was lifting and pulling as steadily as Shelby. They didn't need to discuss that they had a common goal: getting Martha out of the club. Together they half-carried Martha out of the bathroom, weaving in between other patrons and pausing only momentarily when Leah jerked her head in the direction of an emergency exit. They pushed out into the soothing cold, stumbling across the pavement to lower Martha onto the edge of a large pot plant.

Scrutinizing Martha, Shelby could see the reassuring cadence of her breath clouding beneath the lamp light. Somewhere in the back of her head she remembered something about doing a pain test, and when Shelby pinched her collarbone, Martha roused, sitting up straighter. She pressed two fingers against the pulse point in Martha’s wrist, feeling a slow but rhythmic thud of her heartbeat. All good signs until she promptly turned and vomited magnificently into the gutter. Shelby just rubbed her back, comforting her in a sedate monotone, waiting for the nausea to abate. The vomiting would probably help with the alcohol, but Shelby wasn't sure what to expect from the drugs.

"I don't feel good," Martha mumbled, slurring, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, I see that," said Shelby. "What'd you take? Pill or powder?"

"I want to go home."

"I know you do. What'd you take?"

"Dunno."

"What'd you take? You've got to tell me."

"Can't."

Shelby sighed in frustration. "Leah, do you know where she lives?"

But Leah wasn't paying her any mind. When Shelby looked up her, she found Leah with her head tipped back, jaw slack. Apparently she had also partaken. She swayed ominously where she stood. Finally, she ran unsteady fingers through her own hair and down her neck as her eyes trailed over Martha, unfocused and expressionless, like she had never seen her before.

"Leah,” Shelby said again, more firmly.

Leah finally looked down at her, some of the vacancy in her eyes abating. What the hell was she supposed to do? She couldn't lift Martha by herself and the undergrad was in absolutely no state to try to move under her own power. Taking her to the hospital was also out of the question because Martha was underage and under the influence of something probably shockingly illegal. Besides, she was breathing, her heart rate was slow but not alarming, and she responded to pain stimuli. She just needed to come down. So Shelby did the only thing she could conscience doing: Shelby took her back to her own apartment.

She hailed an Uber from Hennepin Avenue, but the first attempt to get her into the car was a disaster, as Martha became increasingly paranoid, flinching at every touch. Leah was almost useless, but eventually held it together long enough to help Shelby bundle her into the back of the car. The driver initially seemed reticent to take them to North Loop lest Martha throw up on his upholstery. Reticent, that was until Shelby angrily threw $200 in folded bills into his passenger seat. Sufficiently bribed, he waited with his fingers tapping the steering wheel until Shelby got in next to Martha and Leah sat up front. The girl curled up into a little ball once Shelby had caged her, tears ruining her mascara as she started to shake and cry. Shelby held the concerned glance she got from the driver in the rear-view mirror, hoping her face didn’t betray her anxiety. Trying to comfort Martha, she hazarded one last soothing hand on her shoulder but she cringed, weeping silently.

"It's okay, Martha," Shelby said.

"I'm scared. Don't let them touch me."

"I won't."

"You're going to leave me."

"Not even if you wanted me to.”

"Toni left me. You will too. We'll all be alone."

Her uncoordinated hand fumbled on the seat between them for a moment, before withdrawing, retreating into her corner again. By the time they arrived in North Loop, Martha had fallen mostly unconscious again and had to be dragged bodily onto the curb by Shelby who left her lying there briefly while she urged Leah to follow. Reviving Martha by the simple expedient of a quick slap on the thigh, Shelby got her standing again. But was she hard to move and miserably depressed, buckling and crying by turns, leaving puddles of vomit outside Shelby's building and again in a potted plant in the lobby while they waited for the elevator. Fortunately, Shelby was just intoxicated enough to observe all the proceedings with an air of cool detachment. Martha leaned pathetically into Shelby's side, ploughing face first into the back stainless steel wall of the car when the doors slid open. Shelby gently stroked her hair back from her forehead as Leah looked on, expressionless.

"How are you Martha?" she asked.

"I feel jostled," Martha mumbled, earning a grudging smile from Shelby.

She groaned again, her cheek against the cold metal. Shelby propped Martha up on the trek from the lift to her front door, settling Martha on the sofa as soon as they were inside. The girl immediately collapsed, still crying softly at intervals. It was not turning out to be the Friday night she expected. Tucking a blanket around Martha's shoulders, Shelby brought her a bucket in the event something, anything still remained in the girl's stomach and wanted to make a bid for freedom. Then she put her kettle on to boil like she could offer the hot water to Martha as some sort of consolation prize. Sorry you got some bad drugs, would you like some tea?

Leah sat at the counter in Shelby’s kitchen, both elbows planted on the granite surface while she cradled her head in both hands. She stared down at a pattern in the smooth surface of the rock, neither moving or speaking. Once Shelby had satisfied herself that they were both settled, she pulled out her laptop and one of her reference books.

“Leah,” Shelby said, and the girl at the counter jumped at the sound of her own name. “What happened?”

“I…” Leah looked around. “Is this your apartment?”

“Yes, I brought you and Martha here.”

“Oh.”

“Leah, can you tell me what you and Martha took?”

In the end, she did one better. Digging in her pocket for a few seconds, Leah produced a small bag of off-white particles. It was crystalline more than powder, shimmering in the light like the mica in her countertops. She compared the residual in the bag with the photos in her reference, but it was impossible to know on appearance alone. She sighed, rubbing her temples as the start of a headache twinged in her forehead.

“Where did you get it?” Shelby asked.

“Toni,” Leah replied.

“But why would she do that? Aren’t y’all friends?”

Leah shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t think it was supposed to be like that.”

Behind her, the kettle whistled. She moved it off the burner, and while her back was turned Leah moved from the barstool to an armchair close to Martha. She sat arranged in the chair watching Martha while she began to settle, both eventually falling asleep. Shelby waited another ten minutes before going to bed herself. Martha, however improbably, had become her friend, and she burned with confusion and indignation on Martha's behalf. Toni seemed close to Martha, so why had she done that stupid awful thing? All Shelby could see at the moment was the tear-streaked girl sleeping on her sofa, the girl whose friend had put her in that situation and hadn’t been there when Martha needed her. Shelby lay awake while the sky transitioned from the yellowish hue of light pollution to the gray of coming dawn. Only then did she fall asleep herself.

+o+o

About an hour later, Shelby jerked awake to the sound of low moaning. She flinched against the early sunlight pouring through the window, amplified by its reflection off the glass in the building opposite. She scowled, trying to find the source of the pitiful noises. Stumbling blindly into her living room, she managed to open one eye enough to make out Martha, sitting in a sad state on the sofa. She was doubled over with her forehead flat to the mahogany coffee table, arms trailing limply on the rug like she was a full sized doll someone had planted there as a joke. Well, she didn't look happy, but at least she looked like she'd live. Shelby glanced around for Leah, but the empty chair gave her the impression Leah had already gone. Walking into the kitchen, Shelby, got a glass of water from the tap. She set the glass beside Martha's right ear, making her recoil slightly from the click.

"Drink this," Shelby said, pushing at Martha.

"Nooo."

"It's just water."

Martha's hand flopped onto the table, and Shelby guided the glass into her palm lest she knock it over groping for it. Together the water and the appendage slithered off the mahogany with only a minor spill. Levering herself up with the opposite arm, Martha straightened just enough bring the rim of the glass to her lips, then realizing how thirsty she was, she drank greedily.

"How about a shower and some breakfast?" Shelby said. "Might help you feel better.”

Martha managed to sort of grunt in assent, slowly getting off the sofa with Shelby's help. Steering the girl like a very hungover ship, Shelby took her into the bathroom and left her there with a clean towel. While she bathed, Shelby set about putting together some toast and coffee for her impromptu houseguest. When Martha emerged again, she looked at least somewhat more human. She climbed up on the high stool beside Shelby's granite counter and looked hollowly at the dry toast Shelby gave her.

"Are you feeling any better?" Shelby asked.

"Yeah. Thanks for…taking care of me. I don't really remember a lot of what happened."

"You'll just owe me later, right? We all have bad nights."

Martha gave her a small smile, letting her know she understood Shelby was trying to be kind. They lapsed back into silence, Shelby persuaded that Martha had avoided any lasting damage, but the question hung over them, unanswered. She decided not to pull any punches, leaning back against the sink with her arms crossed.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Shelby said.

"I don't know," Martha replied.

"I thought Toni was your friend.”

"She's my best friend."

"Maybe it’s not my place to say, but to me it seems like she did something that wasn’t very friendly.”

"You don't understand. It was an acc— Whatever she'd been about to say was serious because she stopped suddenly, biting her lip and gazing down at her plate.

"No, I don't understand. I’m trying though.”

Martha slipped down from the stool, shaking her head. "Shelby, I'm sorry you were stuck looking after me. I'm really thankful you did, but I need to go now."

"I guess it’s not any of my business. Do you need a ride home?"

"No." Martha grimaced as she straightened up. "I'll go on my own."

But the problem was that Toni had made it her business. Toni involved her the second she left Martha alone, perhaps even before that, the second she gave Martha those drugs. It made Shelby angry and she knew before long she'd be having words with Toni Shalifoe.


	4. Chapter 4

The following Monday, when it should have been warming up, the daily low dropped so far below freezing all the temperature scales were in danger of converging. Nora just started laughing as Shelby asked her if it was the coldest she could expect Minneapolis to get, that morning already wearing the heaviest of her coats from Texas. Houston in January was starting to seem balmy by comparison, and she’d even missed the worst of the weather. She expressed even more surprise when she saw one of the undergrads later in the day with a light windbreaker on like he thought it was a bit brisk and not the Arctic tundra. Shelby pitied all the commuters she saw standing at the bus stops, freezing to death. No one in Minnesota seemed to appreciate her plight, so she Facetimed Dot and Fatin. Fatin sat in her kitchen, her glass of red wine rather more visible than Fatin was herself. As for Dot, the lawyer’s royal blue top was about all she could see clearly in the frame, although an occasional movement in the background let her know Mateo was lounging nearby.

"It's so cold here," Shelby told them.

"What's the temperature?" Fatin asked in a disinterested voice.

"Minus twenty."

"Celsius or Fahrenheit?" Dot chipped in.

"I am a scientist not a heathen."

"What does that even mean? Like by day do you pretend to be all Celsius, but then you go home and secretly use Fahrenheit at night?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “You caught me. Cap’n Kelvin is my alter ego.”

Fatin burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I used to have this weather app that was called ‘The Authentic Weather’ or something. I’d open it up and it would just be like ‘The weather today is fucking foggy. Don’t bother looking out the window for more information because you can’t see shit.’”

“What do you think it’d say about Minneapolis right now?”

“I don’t know. Probably ‘The weather today is fucking cold. Say goodbye to your balls.’”

“Reckon I’ll have to get used to it. How’s life in Dallas?”

“Same old,” Dot replied. “They’re doing away with dedicated project assistants and all of legal is going to have to pull from a pool now.”

Frowning, Shelby shook her head slightly. “What kinda sense does that make? Won’t it just make everything more confusing? That’s—that wasn’t Daddy’s idea, was it?”

“Dunno. How are you doing up there aside from the cold?”

“Fine.” Shelby paused, and she could see the twist of her own scowl in the tiny picture of herself in the corner of her screen. "Well, there's this undergrad."

"Cradle robbing?" Fatin asked, with a lascivious grin as she leaned closer to the camera.

“No, nothing like that. She works in the clinic.”

“Okay,” replied Dot slowly. “Not giving us much to go on here, Shelbs.”

“She’s…a little weird, maybe?"

"Weird like, that kid from tenth grade homeroom weird or…?”

Shelby’s eyes widened as she laughed at the memory. “No! No. He was in a special category all his own.”

“That day he read you that poem aloud—”

“Dottie!”

Holding up her hands, Dot relented. “Okay, okay. But that was good shit.”

“I’m not…unlikable…right?”

Dot lifted her chin as she obviously thought it over. “Very likeable, on the whole.”

“On the whole?”

Fatin nodded in agreement. “You’re clean cut, you know? You have a vibe that probably doesn’t sit great with the edgy.”

“Or the people that think I’m just a ‘poor’ little rich girl.”

“So, the undergrad doesn’t like you.”

“She knew last year’s GTW revenue. Like right off the cuff.”

“Well, there you go, then.”

The whole story about Martha was readied, caught somewhere in her throat, but for some reason, she didn't want to tell them. It felt raw, like a cut that hadn't scabbed yet. So, she let Dot change the subject entirely.

+o+o

The showdown came unexpectedly. In a cold room joined to the hospital diagnostic clinic on the third floor of the Cancer Center building. She'd been sent on a fool's errand to collect some blood samples that the nurses had already dispatched the girls to find. The cold room was an old one, crusted with salt from decades of spilled buffers and fitted with an archaic temperature monitoring system that actually recorded the temperature on a disc of paper. As Shelby wrenched open the magnetically sealed door, they met on the threshold like a Laurel and Hardy routine; Shelby trying to go in, the girls trying to come out. At first glance, Toni seemed to barely register who it was, carefully stepping backward so they didn’t collide. Then their eyes met and they could well have been gunslingers at high noon for the tension that crackled through the 4°C air.

"Martha, you mind if I have a word with Toni?" Shelby said without further preamble.

"No, leave her alone," objected Martha.

“It’s cool,” Toni said. “Let her say what she wants to say.”

Toni nodded almost imperceptibly to Martha, and reluctantly, she backed out, the door shutting with a metallic clink and a pneumatic hiss, leaving them almost in the dark. The refrigeration unit hummed above them, the chill seeping through Shelby's clothes until she trembled. The undergrad smirked, her head rocking back so that she looked down her nose at Shelby, evidently waiting for the storm to break.

“I got a few things I want to say to you,” Shelby said, her voice tight and low. “But whatever your problems with me may be, you owe it to Martha to treat her better. You’re supposed to be her friend and you put her in such awful danger.”

Toni nodded slowly, absorbing Shelby’s criticism with her lips pressed tightly together. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know Martha deserves friends better than you.”

“Oh, you mean like you?”

“You run hot all the time, and not just about me.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone about how I smacked into you in the tunnel?”

“Because it was an accident.”

“We both know that it wasn’t. What are you waiting for?”

Smiling, a taut, humorless thing, Shelby held her gaze. “I’m waiting for this study to be over so I never have to think about you ever again.”

Toni drew close to her, mere inches separating their faces. “You got a lot of people here thinking you’re all rainbows and unicorn shit but I see you.”

They stood, staring each other down for a few moments more, when Toni laughed and tried to push pass. More amused than intimidated, Shelby bumped her with her shoulder, maybe harder than was necessary, knocking Toni off balance enough that she had to catch herself on the shelving. Pushing back up, she rounded on Shelby.

“That all you got?” Toni asked.

“I have the strength for lots more but I’m not gonna waste it on you. You’re not worth it.”

“Stay out of my life. You’re one of those people who likes to tell themselves a nice story about who they are because, deep down, they’re hiding some pretty fucked up shit.”

Toni glared defiantly up at the taller Shelby, whose expression was so cool it might have frozen ethanol, brutally unconcerned. She brushed past Shelby, jarring her with the bony point of her elbow before disappearing into the corridor. Martha's pitying face in the bright hallway struck her like a blow.

"You don't know what you're doing," she said, before she took off at a sprint after Toni.

Lord Above, why did helping people have to be so draining and difficult? She suddenly wished she hadn't bothered at all.

+o+o

Martha brought her a muffin the following morning like some kind of baked peace offering. They stood in the dim hallway, since no food or drink was allowed into the lab space. Eating in proximity to formaldehyde? Slow internal preservation was definitely not the way Shelby wanted to meet her demise. Several feet separated them as they leaned against the scuffed wall on opposite sides of a door, the frame symbolic in its partitioning of their physical space. Shelby just held the muffin on the flat of her hand, not knowing how to tell Martha that chocolate muffins were actually cupcakes masquerading as muffins, because she'd already been too free with her opinions of late. Instead she smiled stiffly, until Martha coughed and they both looked away.

"It's chocolate," Martha announced unnecessarily, like it could have possibly been anything else.

Shelby raised her eyebrows. When nothing else was forthcoming she said, "Is there some weird Minnesotan holiday I've missed?"

Martha looked confused.

"Do people usually exchange bakery items?"

“No."

Smiling at the absurdity of it, Shelby closed her eyes briefly. "Then why have you brought me a muffin?"

"Oh. No reason."

"Right, thanks. That's sweet of you."

Fidgeting apprehensively, Martha bounced where she stood. "Do you not like muffins? I could have brought you mac and cheese. My mom calls it mac and cheesus because it's so good it's a holy miracle."

It took all of Shelby's willpower for her not to wince at the horrible pun, nevermind the bizarre blaspheming. "No, the muffin is lovely. I just thought I’d lost my mind for a second there.”

"Ah.”

"Martha," Shelby said without heat. "I assume you didn't come down here just for this."

"No." Martha took a deep breath. "It's nice having you as a friend. I like it."

Well, things were taking a strange turning. "I like being friends with you."

"Toni's my friend, too."

"But she—"

"My best friend. Okay?

She couldn't pretend to understand the complexities of Martha's relationship with Toni, and all at once she felt as though she just needed to divorce herself from the situation.

Shelby sighed, settling for something neutral. "Yeah, you said."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Satisfied, Martha nodded and smiled as though their discussion had smoothed the whole business over and Shelby would frolic hand and hand with Toni through fields of wild flowers. She left Shelby standing alone in the poorly lit basement corridor, staring at her own reflection in the dark window of an empty office. When Nora popped out of the lab five minutes later, she found Shelby lingering there, the muffin clutched in her right hand like she was going to shot put it into the utility closet.

"Are you…is that a muffin?" Nora asked tentatively.

"It's a cupcake," Shelby replied, not thinking. "Martha gave it to me."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Is it just me or do Minnesotans have a thing about muffins?" She surveyed the top of it with a critical eye. “Are you going to eat that?”

Shelby handed it to her, still somewhat nonplussed by not only the bulk of the exchange, but by the whole goddamn week.

“Oh, that’s a good ‘uffin,” Nora commented around a mouthful of chocolate.

She walked off still chewing.

+o+o

Two days later Shelby got an email. It was just two words.

Toni Shalifoe (umn.edu)  
To: Shelby Goodkind (umn.edu)  
(No Subject)

you're right

Two words that suggested admitting Shelby was right could absolve Toni of all manner of sins, but of course, it didn't. In fact, it just riled Shelby up more, and she fumed silently until she thought hard about how much of a concession writing _anything_ must have been for Toni. Slowly the words began to strike her less as slapping a band-aid on a shotgun wound and more as an olive branch, at once acknowledging and apologetic. Maybe not apologetic. Shelby scoffed to herself as she reconsidered that one. But Toni had given an inch, an inch to defuse the powder keg. Shelby didn't know why, but the tiny sacrifice required by that admission felt like a step in the right direction.

+o+o

It wasn’t until April that it snowed properly for the first time since Shelby’s arrival: deep, drifting snow. She’d stood dumbfounded at her window for a full thirty seconds before she had actually believed it. The heavy traffic made Shelby late, and by the time she arrived to work the parking ramp she usually used was full. Instead, she had to leave her car on the other side of campus, necessitating a ten-minute walk down snowy roadways. The only problem was that there were hidden slick spots of ice lurking beneath the newly fallen snow like insidious booby traps intent on making pedestrians become intimately acquainted with the pavement.

The snow fell in big, wet flakes, covering everything in a heavy white layer that shimmered so brightly it almost didn't look real, muffling the sounds of the busy street. She was able to make it the first block by walking in the shelter of the big new residence hall that had been constructed on 17th Avenue. It was all red brick accented by sandstone and huge panes of greenish tempered glass. Shelby waited in a huge gaggle of undergrads sipping at her coffee. Then, several things happened all at once. The light changed, and together she and the students began to cross; her phone rang, and she reached with her free hand into her bag; someone she recognized passed, and Shelby's head swiveled to follow, a flash of thick hair over her shoulder.

Then Shelby slipped; full out ass over tea kettle, landing hard on her left arm as the air was slammed from her lungs. For what felt like forever, she sprawled prone and gasping, embarrassed beyond all reckoning as several spectators stopped to stare. They watched with shocked faces while her phone rang twice more before stopping. As she struggled into a sitting position, a person in a plaid flannel suddenly knelt between her legs. A pair of searching dark eyes examined her for damage. She had the worst damn luck. Naturally Toni would be the one to find her in such an awful situation. To her credit the girl's expression remained completely detached, like she was always finding work colleagues lying around in the middle of busy streets.

“Are you okay?” Toni asked, with a lot more concern in her voice that Shelby was used to hearing.

“Yeah,” Shelby said reflexively, without really thinking or feeling. “Fine.”

Seeming content with the fact Shelby was still conscious, Toni straightened up and offered her hand. For a few seconds, Toni stood over her, reaching down to where she sat injured on the snowy asphalt. Toni's palm flattened as she spread her fingers, gesturing again, and finally, Shelby acquiesced, taking her hand. With a little tug, Toni pulled her to her feet. Her touch was unexpectedly gentle as she steadied the Texan, especially as her face simultaneously hardened into a look of "fucking try me" at the traffic inching forward toward them. The girls shuffled together onto a corner in the distorted shadow of a naked oak. Sneering, Toni held up her middle finger to a car that honked as it breezed by before looking at Shelby. Shelby cradled her left arm against her body, her lips trembling.

"I think it's—ah," Shelby hissed as she tried to flex the joint.

It didn't exactly hurt, but something felt far wrong. A hot tear fell onto Shelby's cheek, and she batted it away angrily. Toni touched Shelby's good elbow where it rested against her bag, lifting her eyebrows in question.

“Is it busted?” Toni asked.

"I don't know," Shelby said as she looked at her arm again.

Ducking down to catch Shelby’s gaze, Toni cocked her head as their eyes locked.

"Look, thanks," Shelby said so irritably she might as well have said fuck you. "I'm fine. So you can go, okay?"

Toni rolled her eyes spectacularly before turning in the direction of the university hospital. She waited for a beat, then beckoned for Shelby to follow. “You gotta get that thing looked at.”

"I told you I'm fine," Shelby protested, but the endorphins numbing her arm were already wearing off.

Toni must have known it too because she gently pulled Shelby along the pavement until the pain began to get the better of her and she submitted to being led with a little noise of derision. The grip on Shelby's right upper arm was firm, the girl's tread slow but steady enough on the slippery brickwork where Shelby's was uncertain. Toni kept her upright as they hazarded the ice together. They travelled three entire blocks without even looking at each other. Only when they paused at a junction did Shelby glance up at Toni. Her dark hair had been mussed by the wind and flecked with snow, and she was all the more wild for her open jacket, which couldn't have done much to protect her from the weather. Still, Toni's hand felt warm even through Shelby's layers, and she fought the urge to twist free when the contrast in temperature made her shiver.

Shelby looked like she was being perp walked to the ER, wading through the slushy snow, especially when Toni didn't release her until they were stood in front of the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter looked distinctly uninterested in Shelby's pain and took several moments to even acknowledge them.

"I had a bit of a fall," Shelby told the woman.

Shelby's uncharacteristic meekness in the wake of the accident evaporated the second the irascible nurse opened her mouth.

"You'll need to fill out these forms and wait your turn, ma'am."

Shelby almost barked back a less than cordial reply when Toni pulled her away to a bank of open chairs in the waiting room. Hospitals and research labs often found themselves situated nearby in academic arenas, but the smell and atmosphere were miles apart. Shelby filled out her forms, muttering in an undertone every five or so seconds. They required a dozen lines of information about her current insurance provider and how else the hospital might exact its pound of flesh if the insurance should leave her high and dry. She and Toni waited silently for almost half an hour, sitting side by side like strangers on a bus; Shelby staring at the artificial flowers on a table and Toni staring at the tiles in the drop ceiling.

"Look I know you don’t like me," Shelby said belligerently. “You’ve got me here so you can go now.”

“Trust me, Shelby,” replied Toni. “Being your chaperone is not high on the list of things I want to be doing right now, but your arm is busted.”

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

She'd meant for the words to be pointed, _cutting_ , but they came out so soft she wished she hadn’t tried to match Toni for bravado. Toni shrugged and instead of answering, stood up and crossed the room to the nurses’ station. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but Toni’s body language gave her the distinct impression whatever it was irritated at best and livid at worst. After a few moments the nurse stood up and walked back into another room. Toni trailed back slowly, casting several angry glances over her shoulder toward the door.

“This is ridiculous,” Toni said as she sank back down. “We’ve been waiting for fucking ever.”

Shelby shifted, wincing with the radiating ache that was beginning to creep from her elbow up to her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken. I’ve sprained things in the past and it never felt like this.”

“Yeah.” Sliding down, Toni slouched further in her chair. “Breaking bones sucks.”

“How am I supposed to do anything in lab now? Maybe they’ll do me a favor and just cut it off.”

Toni looked at her sharply, studying her face with flickering eyes that never stayed trained in one spot for long.

“What?”

Toni swallowed, and then bent down and picked up her backpack. Producing 800 milligrams of ibuprofen from a little plastic bottle, she pressed the large white pill into Shelby's hand.

The stress and pain were getting to Shelby and she started to laugh. “Don’t you have anything stronger in there?”

“I would never touch that shit. Do you hear me? _Never_.”

“Toni, I—”

“This is fucking rich coming from you. Rolling out oxy like candy.”

Taken aback, Shelby muttered a few incoherent words, not sure what to say, but Toni grabbed her bag without letting her speak further.

“I don’t know why I even bothered.”

Shelby sat silent as she watched her go, shoes squeaking wetly on the linoleum as she moved slowly to the other side of the lobby and down into a stairwell.

+o+o

As it happened, she waited alone and confused another half hour before Martha appeared. By that time, Shelby's arm was aching in spite of the painkillers. Toni must have texted Martha or something because she was looking for Shelby when she arrived.

"Oof," Martha said, claiming Toni's vacant seat. "Toni had to go to class. I'm sorry about your arm. Has anyone seen you yet?"

Shelby shook her head and said, "No, I've been waiting for a while."

"Yeah, Toni said it was stupid nobody has taken a look at you yet because there's nobody here."

"I think I upset her.”

Martha sighed. “What else is new?”

“Is she always, you know, like this? Or is there something particularly exasperating about me?”

With an introspective furrow in her forehead, Martha considered. “She’s always had a temper. The hospital probably didn’t help.”

“To be fair, I don’t think anybody but Nora _likes_ hospitals.”

“I’m not even sure Nora likes them.”

Shelby cradled her injured arm closer to her body. “Thanks for coming, Martha. I appreciate you coming to sit with me.”

Martha brightened, reaching over and giving Shelby’s good hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s the least I could do.”

When they finally called her back, Shelby sent Martha on her way because it didn’t seem fair that Martha should have to sit through two hours of X-rays and setting and discussions about her prognosis for recovery. The real trouble came as they tried to get her coat off, but her arm was too swollen and painful to for her to pull the sleeve down and the nurse bypassed the whole endeavor by the simple expedient of getting a pair of industrial looking shears and cutting the fabric from cuff to shoulder. And that was the end of the warmest coat she owned. If she had been hoping for more powerful analgesia when they started examining her in earnest, she was sorely disappointed. The nurse offered her the same tablets Toni had given her: White and stamped with “I10” on the side.

So, it was with her arm bare, supporting the broken side by the wrist with her good hand, that she went to have the X-rays taken. The radiology technician was trying to be gentle, she knew he was, but as he twisted and straightened her arm into the four positions needed she couldn’t help but whimper in pain. With the joint straightened, high and low. At a 90° angle. Repositioned with the ulna and radius uncrossed. Then she sat yet again for another thirty minutes before the harried resident came in with his wrinkled scrubs hanging off his lean frame. With only a few muttered words of greeting, he brought up the digital images of her radiographs on his monitor, pointing to two spots that looked much the same as most of the other spots along the length of the long bones in her arm.

“You see the fat pads here?” he said.

“Fat pads?” Shelby asked, as much offended as confused.

“The darker spots on the image. They’re indicative of a break here where fluid has collected around the injury. Are you experiencing any pain or numbness in your hand? Pins and needles?”

Shelby shook her head.

“Okay, that’s good. Keep an eye out for that and let us know if it starts to feel strange. Luckily the bone is not displaced much.”

He spent another few minutes immobilizing her arm in a splint and wrapping it, detailing her treatment plan in an exhausted monotone.

“Are there any last questions I can answer for you?” he asked without looking at her as he typed his notes into the computer.

“No, thanks.”

He left as quickly as he came in, leaving the nurse to hand her a stack of pamphlets entitled “Hand Exercises”, “When to Contact Us”, “Broken Bones and You” and other such nonsense. The last thing she handed Shelby as she walked out was a prescription. She glanced down at the scribbled writing and smiled without feeling very amused at all. Sixty monstrous 800 mg tablets of ibuprofen.

+o+o

"What happened to your arm?" Nora asked with professional interest.

Shelby was halfway through slicing through the paraffin block so focused on the task she didn’t immediate respond. Nora pushed at the back of the swivel chair, rotating her away from her work and leaving Shelby frozen in a comical pantomime of cutting tissue sections, body still hunched over with her right hand at shoulder level. She looked up at Nora with a befuddled expression, before settling back against the cryostat.

"I'm sorry, good morning to you, too," Shelby said.

“What happened to your arm?” Nora repeated.

“I broke it.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Foosh?"

"What’s a foosh?”

"Fall on outstretched hand."

"You doctors and your acronyms."

"Says the immunologist. As if that's not a discipline that needs to come with a reference chart. Did you fall?"

"In the middle of traffic.”

“Greenstick fracture? Wait—no, no. You’re like twenty years too old for a greenstick.”

Shelby bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Failed your orthopedics rotation, I see.”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.” Nora grimaced. “Well, maybe. God, Shelby you should have called me."

"Toni saw me fall and took me to the ER." Shelby nodded in response to Nora's raised eyebrows. "I _know_. It was surprising.”

"That was—nice? Of her?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What did they tell you about your arm?”

“Fractured humerus. Orthopedist said it was a miracle I didn’t need pins. I’ll have the splint on for a while and then I’ll need physical therapy because it’s so close to the joint.”

“You know, my sister Rachel is a physical therapist for M Health.”

Frowning slightly, Shelby cocked her head. “You’re not from Minnesota. How’d y’all both end up here?”

Nora shrugged. “Rachel and I always seem to end up together. They didn’t set you up with anyone yet did they?”

“No, not yet.”

“Not to be nepotistic, but she specializes in bad breaks. Think about asking for her, if you want.” Nora sighed, looking again at Shelby's arm. "Am I going to have to open everything for you now?"

Shelby flipped her off.

+o+o

It took a few days, but Shelby next saw Toni when the girl brought a handful of samples from the clinic with Martha. Shelby looked up at her as she passed, and although their eyes met, Toni didn't stop or acknowledge her at all as Martha said hello. Shelby thought that a little harsh even though she was under no illusion that things were suddenly copacetic between them. She went to the end of her bench and waited there purposefully for the girls to come back. Toni paused midstep for a second in her approach, but then closed the rest of the distance.

"Just a fracture," Shelby said at once. "Six weeks at most."

Toni looked completely unsurprised. “Like I said. Sucks.”

Shelby felt the old rush of annoyance mixing with the rest of the assorted mess that comprised her emotions on the topic of Toni. Swallowing and wetting her lips, Shelby tried to think of something more to say. She still wanted to thank Toni, without regard to her reservations, but then with a little tilt of her head Toni backed slowly away and left the lab. Okay, evidently the uncertainty was mutual, though it was hard to actively dislike someone who, without hesitation, picked her up from the middle of the street and took her to the damn hospital.

Martha held up a Sharpie. "Can I sign your cast?" she asked.

It wasn’t a cast, it was a splint, but Shelby nodded anyway and let her write a message on the elastic wrapping holding the supportive plastic mold to her elbow. That night as she was getting ready for bed, it came to her, what she could do to say a reluctant thank you to Toni, even though, frankly, Toni owed her in the first place. But being one up on her, Shelby mused, couldn't hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

She went to the clinic the following afternoon, feeling a bit of a fool carrying a wrapped gift under her good arm like she was in elementary school on her way to someone’s eighth birthday party. And poorly wrapped at that, because you try making the paper stay while you Scotch tape with one arm in a sling. Some would think the gift a downright extravagant thing to give a person you weren't even sure you liked very much, but GoodkindTaylorWise threw the damn things at the research staff like they grew on trees. She had two more, not counting the one on her person, unopened and unused back in her apartment. Surreptitiously sliding into the clinic, she popped into an unoccupied exam room nearly frightening the life out of Martha who was wiping down a table with her back turned.

"Shelby, you scared the pants off me," Martha said hand over her heart.

Privately, Shelby was glad it was just a figure of speech because actually scaring the pants off someone seemed awkward at best.

"Sorry, had to be a little sneaky," Shelby said.

She glanced around before shoving her burden into Martha's arms. The undergrad looked at the box with raised eyebrows.

"Is this for me?" Martha asked, nonplussed.

"Sort of," Shelby hedged. "It's for Toni, but I don’t want her to know it’s from me."

This interesting new piece of information only seemed to confuse Martha more because she glanced between Shelby and the box with a skeptical frown.

"I thought you didn't…" Martha began.

"I know she and I don't exactly get along," Shelby interrupted briskly. "It doesn't matter. She'll get more use out of that than I will."

"She doesn't need you to feel sorry for her."

“Feel sorry about what? I wanted—I wanted to say thank you for going out of her way last week.”

"My auntie Bea gave her a new book every time she visited until we were seventeen because she insulted Toni once when we were kids. Toni burned them all, even the spendy ones." In response to Shelby's stunned expression, she tacked on, "Oh, Toni used to burn things all the time," like that was supposed to reassure Shelby that Toni’s pyromania during her formative years was totally healthy.

The statement gave her pause. "Do you think she’ll take it?"

"Is this because she helped you?"

Shelby hesitated and then nodded.

"Don’t let her bug you so much. She’s exhausting sometimes.”

"That's an understatement," Shelby muttered.

Lifting the box slightly, Martha frowned. "Where do I tell her the present came from?"

"I don't know, make up something." She stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "She's not going to burn it is she?"

"Ever since she had that accident with the canoe she hasn't really liked fire much."

"How do you set a canoe on fire?!"

"It was birch bark."

A bit perplexed by that explanation, Shelby turned to leave, but Martha called her back before looking away slowly.

"She was sorry, you know," said Martha, forehead creasing. "Even before you yelled at her in the cold room.”

“There was no yellin’ on my part. Just home truths she didn’t want to hear.”

“She was the one who sent Leah to find you, after she got kicked out of the Saloon."

Shelby didn't know what to say to that, so she went with the old fallback of nonchalance. "Whatever."

"Thanks, for not telling anyone what happened."

"Poor form to run in on Monday and tell Nora."

Martha gave her a strained smile. As Shelby walked out of the clinic she couldn’t help second guessing herself. She'd told Martha to come up with a lie that would fool her clever childhood friend. Somehow, she had the sneaking suspicion Toni would know before Martha even gave her the box.

+o+o

"I thought we agreed you were banned from coffee consumption," Nora said as they walked together toward the coffee shop in the basement of the dental school.

"Only when Toni Shalifoe is around," Shelby complained. "Oh, I forgot to say I spilled a third time when I broke my arm. So I'm three of three."

"She's like the coffee anti-godmother."

Shelby strode along the tunnel, her arm up in a black sling. They rounded the corner into the atrium where a spread of tables and high tops were surrounded by a blend of exhausted looking undergrads not long out of midterms and improbably pretty dental students who might have been coming from a promotional photo shoot.

"What is it with the dentists?" Nora said wonderingly as they joined the massive queue. "I never looked that good in med school. I looked like they just rolled a hobo out of the on-call room and put her in scrubs."

"Apparently it's so challenging it offers lots of time for showers and haircuts."

"Are the baristas growing the beans out back? What is taking so long?"

Nora craned her neck, trying to see what was going on at the front of the queue. She snorted in disgust when she saw the male assistant flirting shamelessly with two girls. Meanwhile, Shelby couldn't help but smile nostalgically at the assorted students. Two girls sprawled on a sagging sofa, asleep head to foot against one wall. An entire table was occupied by one guy with three textbooks and a stack of notes almost as tall as Shelby. Some worked, others chatted, and the smell of the coffee and the feel of the energy just reminded her of college.

Just then the manager from one of the other labs burst out from a set of double doors dragging a pallet of boxes. He waited a few seconds, unable to move forward because Shelby was standing with her back to him, blocking the way. Shelby could barely hear him clearing his throat, before he said "Excuse me" in a tone that didn’t sound much like he wanted to be excused. Before Shelby had any time to react at all, he actually shouted, his hand shooting out to spin her roughly around by the shoulder.

"What's wrong with you?" he said aggressively. "Get out of the way!"

Shelby's eyes widened in surprise at being confronted at a distance of two inches, but almost immediately her mouth firmed into a not quite purse. She opened her mouth to respond, but then there was just over five feet of undergrad between her and the man, interposing herself like a flesh and bone wall between him and Shelby.

"Would you like to fuck off, please?" Toni snapped.

She angled her body forward, stepping closer to him until he recoiled. He started to mutter something in reply, but after a moment he shrank back. His expression flitted between annoyance and regret as Nora patted him awkwardly and started to lead him away.

"How about we go this way?" she told him.

Casting an amused look over her shoulder at Shelby, Nora guided him in the opposite direction. Shelby stood in shocked stillness, her hand half extended to touch Toni’s arm, but then not knowing if she should. Eventually, she went for it, her soft, slender flingers slipping around Toni’s wrist, and slowly drawing her back. Shelby thought at first she would need to pull or even fight her, but finally Toni relaxed, letting Shelby squeeze the bones of her hand gently before releasing her altogether. Toni’s gaze turned up to her.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked.

Rolling her eyes, Shelby shook her head.

"There was no reason for him to fucking rough you up."

“I’m all right, honestly.”

With a quick conflicted noise somewhere in her throat, Toni quickly reached into her backpack producing the new iPad, still in its box. She held it out, eyebrows raised. Shelby didn't have to confirm or deny; Toni knew. She tried to give it back, but Shelby refused, jaw flexing as she noticed she’d completely neglected to remove the big, stylized GoodkindTaylorWise sticker on the back. She rolled her eyes at the odd unzipped DNA helix logo. The corner of Toni's mouth quirked up in a weird expression that could have been amusement or could have been disdain. Or yet still could have been the illegitimate love child of the two.

“I don’t owe you for—” Toni began.

“I never said that you did!” Shelby handed the box back, or perhaps more correctly, thrust it back so that Toni had to accept it or drop it. "Just take it.”

“Fine,” Toni said flatly. “Is this where I say thanks?”

Shelby’s head rocked back as she let out a single huff of disbelief. “Pretty customary when people give you stuff.”

She looked for one golden instant like she might actually say it, might actually admit she was grateful for the gift, but instead Shelby was graced to the most conflicted expression she’d ever seen on another human. Toni shrugged and jammed the box into her backpack, not bothering to try to fit it in neatly enough to zip it up completely. Her focus shifted over Shelby’s shoulder, and the Texan followed her gaze to where Nora walked toward them with her arms crossed.

"Holy Hannah," Nora said. "The look on his face."

When she looked back to Toni the girl was almost to the main exit up to the street. With astonishing swiftness for someone with a five pound splint bouncing off her ribs, Shelby ran to draw level with her, catching her by the wrist. Toni swung around looking vaguely exasperated.

"Hey, where are you going?" Shelby said.

“Class. Later.”

She walked backward a few steps, before adjusting her backpack on her shoulder and pushing through the glass doors to the outside. She climbed the triple wide stairs that led up to Washington Avenue, the dazzle of the daylight above casting her in silhouette. Maybe Shelby'd had it right in the first place. Maybe Toni was just a lot.

+o+o

“Can you see me now?” Alan asked.

Shelby couldn’t. In fact, all she could see was a vague blur of green narrated by Alan’s posh Oxford accent like a visually uninspiring episode of Planet Earth. Another bemused sound, and then finally the professor’s pink face came into view.

“Would you believe it!” he said. “I had a bit of tape over my camera the whole time.”

Unsurprised, Shelby waved. “Hi, Alan.”

“Glad to see you in good spirits in spite of that arm!”

“Only a few more weeks now. You’re not still in lab are you?”

“Of course not.” He looked up at the wall behind him. “I suppose it’s hard to tell from just that.”

“Living room?”

“Kitchen! Where are you?”

Glancing toward the students surrounding her, Shelby turned her laptop so that Alan could see the basement coffee shop beside her lab.

“I’ve never understood the American fascination with coffee. Given the choice, I’d prefer a cup of builder’s tea any day.”

Having been treated to the bitter dark liquid that was British builder’s tea by Alan on another occasion, Shelby shook her head slightly. “I won’t lie, I’m glad we threw it all in the harbor.”

“I never! It’s better than sweet tea, surely.”

“Better for your teeth maybe.”

Alan tutted in mock incredulity. “Madam, we must then agree to disagree.”

“How has Houston been without me?” Shelby asked.

“A bloody shambles!” said Alan. “Did you know that you used to make all the extraction stocks? Genevieve and I had no idea until we ran out and no one could remember how to do it.”

“I can send you the protocol.”

“No, no. We must struggle through in your absence. Any word on the patent?”

She sighed. “Well, Vac Tech has the patent now, but they’re just a small company. Daniel doesn’t seem to think they’ll have the money to actually do anything with it.”

“Probably seeking a licensing deal with another firm, then.”

“That’s what I thought, too. Get them to do all the manufacturing, so they’ll own all the things that cost money while Vac Tech owns all the things that make money.”

Alan considered her for a moment. “Are you worried about your dissertation?”

“This isn’t good. I didn’t move a thousand miles to be an author on the study for the vaccination schedule. I’m not an epidemiologist.”

“I know it’s frustrating, but don’t be discouraged. Even if this does derail the trial, there’s still the strain analysis and incubation period work.”

“I’m starting to think I should have stayed with you.”

“Don’t be daft, girl. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.“

“I’m on a finite timeline. I can’t hang around an extra year waiting on lawyers and regulatory agencies.”

“I know—“ Alan broke off as Shelby’s head spun to look at someone or something to her left.

“Are you coming to seminar?” a voice inquired.

“Yeah, can you give me five minutes? I just want to finish chatting—” She gestured with her good hand at the screen.

Shelby leaned to the side, allowing a space for Nora to enter the camera's field of view and address Alan.

“Hello, friend of Shelby!” said Nora. “Oh my gosh, is this your grandpa?”

“Hello, there,” Alan said laughing. “I’m not her granddad, but I appreciate the compliment.”

Waving a little awkwardly, Nora shifted so she was leaning in over Shelby’s shoulder rather than forcing her to double over at a weird angle.

“And who is this charming gate crasher?” Alan asked.

“Nora Reid,” said Shelby. “The clinician.”

Nora relaxed slightly as she realized with whom she was speaking. “Doctor Dawes, I’m a huge fan of your work. Thank you for lending us Shelby. It’s been great having her here on the project.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Doctor Reid.”

With that, Nora sat down across from Shelby, apparently content to allow her to continue her conversation with her thesis mentor in relative peace. Shelby eyed her dubiously for some seconds, trying to ascertain whether or not there would be any further interruptions, but Nora got her phone from her pocket and busied herself with looking thoroughly occupied.

“If it’s all the same, could we finish this later, Alan?” said Shelby. “I forgot about seminar.”

Nodding, he leaned forward toward his camera. “Ring me any time. Happy to discuss more when you have a moment.”

Shelby clicked shut the clamshell of her computer, glancing at Nora as she swept it under her right arm. “Are you coming?”

Nora scrambled up, falling into step beside her as they walked down the tunnel.

+o+o

Two weeks before she was set to get her splint off, Shelby started physical therapy. What she was supposed to do exactly with her arm still immobilized, she had no idea, but the orthopedist’s office sent her a very cordial reminder that she needed to go, and in the interest of _not_ having Nora open all her bottles for the foreseeable future she thought it was probably best to get independent again as quickly as possible. In the event, she’d taken Nora’s advice (nepotism or not) because if Nora was recommending her, then it seemed like she had a genuinely good opinion of her sister’s skill as a medical provider. The appointment was in the basement of the student health center, and Shelby sat waiting her turn in a plastic chair. The skin beneath the bandaging surrounding her left elbow and forearm had begun to itch terribly.

“Shelby?” A voice called.

In the doorway, a young woman smiled out at her. She didn’t look much like Nora at first blush, but maybe Shelby could see a bit of family resemblance around her eyes. Shelby rose and moved toward her while Rachel looked down at a sheaf of papers.

“Can you confirm your date of birth for me?” she asked.

“November fifteenth,” Shelby replied.

“Great, thank you.”

“I’m Rachel Reid,” Rachel said as she led Shelby down a hallway toward an examination room. “I’m going to be your physical therapist for the next few months.”

“I know your sister Nora. We work together.”

Rachel turned her head, and Shelby got the feeling she was being sized up. “At the hospital? I’m surprised we haven’t met.”

“No, I’m more on the research side. Dan Faber’s lab?”

“Oh, yeah! Nora’s mentioned you. I should have recognized that Texas drawl. Now don’t worry. Anything we discuss here will obviously be confidential.”

Rachel paused beside a scale, and Shelby cut her eyes down toward it, then back at Rachel expectantly. “Should I jump on?” 

“Only if you want to. I know I certainly don’t love looking at my weight fully clothed.”

Shelby smiled. “Thanks.”

Rachel gestured to the to examining room opposite and let Shelby precede her in before shutting the door. They both settled down beside a computer terminal so Rachel could make notes in Shelby’s chart as they chatted.

“How is everything feeling so far?” Rachel asked.

“Stiff,” said Shelby. “Itchy. Not so bad, all things considered.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you describe your pain level?”

Shelby shrugged. “Where one is…?”

Rachel slid a little chart across the desk to her. “Where one is a mosquito bite and ten is the worst most unimaginable pain.”

“Oh. Uh, maybe a three most of the time. Four when my pills wear off.”

“And still no aching or pins and needles further down the arm?”

“No.”

“Great.”

“Okay, so the first thing for us to establish is what your goals are for these sessions. At your age, I’d recommend a more aggressive regimen where we focus on range of motion and ability. If you were older, I might say let’s work on pain management at the cost of some range of motion.”

Shelby flexed the fingers of her left hand. “Are you saying I might not get full use of my arm back?”

“You’re young and active so I expect you to make a recovery here. If you’re ever in pain, we’re doing it wrong, but there are going to be things that are uncomfortable.”

“I just want everything to go back to normal. If I can get back to work, then that’s fine.”

“There will need to be a balance between working hard and being kind to yourself. I was an athlete. It’s easy to go too far in either direction.”

Shelby nodded.

“Okay, while the splint is still on the first thing we should be working on is maintaining the strength in your left hand.”

By the time the session was over, Shelby seriously needed a pee and walked straight across the waiting area to the restroom on the other side. It was as she was leaving that she saw Toni, her torso and face silhouetted against the windows, recognizing her more by her hair and slim profile than anything else. She stood up as Rachel came out and waited at the edge of the reception desk. Something about the way she carried herself was tense, conveying a kind of exhaustion.

“I know I don’t have an appointment,” she heard Toni say.

“That’s okay,” Rachel replied, checking her watch. “I have about forty-five minutes now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey. We talked about this. It’s cool.” Crouching down, Rachel scrutinized something. “Has the pain gotten any better?”

That was when she noticed Toni’s leg. She was wearing a set of black athletic tights with one leg pulled up over her calf and gathered above her left knee. There from her position half hidden in the doorway to the toilets, Shelby could see the angry curve of a scar stretching around the patella and down her shin.

“Toni,” Rachel said, getting back to her feet, “you know we could manage this better if—”

Toni shook her head, a shudder of agitation balling her firsts against her body. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know it’s there if you change your mind.”

“Could you spend some time with me in the gym? Please?”

Nodding, Rachel smiled sympathetically, putting her arm around Toni’s shoulders. “Did that stretching thing we did over the winter help?”

Shelby swallowed. She watched them go, shaken by the aching tremor of Toni’s voice.

+o+o

She knew she wasn’t meant to see it. And because she knew she wasn’t supposed to see it, it wasn’t like she could _tell_ anyone. She couldn’t walk into clinic and casually say to Leah and Martha, “Oh, hey, what’s up with Toni’s leg?” No, that wouldn’t do at all. But the moment of kindness Toni had shown her suddenly made miles of messed up, empathetic sense. It twisted something in her belly until she found herself almost angry Toni’s help had come out pity, out the pain of some shared experience and not because Toni felt a single iota of actual warmth toward her.

She spent the following week rounding corners like a cat burglar, terrified she’d run into Toni and spend the whole interaction staring like an idiot at her shin. Maybe that would have been okay. Toni could spend the whole time staring at her arm. Shelby sat at the table before lab meeting still ruminating on the mechanics of how that would work exactly when Leah and Martha appeared. Beside her, Nora paused, halfway through making last minute changes to her slide deck, and groaned. The presence of Leah meant one thing: it was time for an update on the behavioral aspects of the monitoring study.

One of the unfortunate parts of the study was the biweekly sexual history questionnaires. As if the whole concept of the study wasn't invasive enough. Luckily, the task of recording the data usually fell to Martha, who more often than not seemed blissfully unaware of the implications of what she was typing into a very neat and orderly spreadsheet. The subjects would report number of new partners and (in very clinical terms) the sex acts performed with each one, from chaste kissing to things best not discussed in polite company. The general trend was that saliva was the main vector for transmission, as Daniel never failed to remind them.

"Leah has been analyzing data from the last three studies," Daniel said during lab meeting. "She has three groups of individuals we are concerned with. The 'bookworms'" he completed the visual with air quotes, "who never have new partners don't get mono. Not surprising. But then we have 'deep kissers' and 'deep kissers with penetrative sex.'"

Shelby winced in spite of the fact that they were all supposed to be very professional researchers who did not giggle helplessly at the mention of sex like a lot of immature children. Nora managed to get away with just closing her eyes briefly, but looked as though listening to him might soon become too physically painful to endure. The whole business was enough to put anyone off kissing for life, especially when described in Daniel's cheerful voice as "taking someone else's spit and having a good swish."

"As you can see in this plot," Daniel went on, oblivious, pointing to a graph, "there doesn't seem to be a difference, meaning 'deep kissing' is the risk behavior most associated with getting mono. Sex is not required. That is being corroborated by the data in this study as well, right Leah?"

Leah nodded, but she did so in a non-committal fashion before saying, "Yes. Well, mostly. There have been a few blips on the radar that are driving me crazy. A couple of the subjects have seroconverted without any new contacts and another is either really lucky or just a liar."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"The subject reports having loads of new partners, but never seems to get infected."

Reporting false data was an easy way to ruin the credibility of the study. They went around the table trying to get suggestions for alternative data analysis that would exclude the outliers. Secretly, Shelby had a good idea to deal with it, but it wasn't something she wanted to announce to the room at large. Instead, she waited for lab meeting to be over, and drew Leah aside to discuss it in one of the exam rooms.

"You know the SIDs of the subjects, right?" Shelby said.

"Yeah, I couldn't plot the data without them," said Leah.

"I don't think it would be out of bounds to ask the nurses to check up with the volunteers in question. Let them know how important it is our data reflects actual behavior.”

Twisting her hands together uncomfortably, Leah studiously examined the ceiling.

"What?"

"One of them is 7089." That was Toni's SID.

Shelby sighed, lifting her arm closer to her body. "I see. That’s…awkward. Do you think she's being honest?"

"You would be better off asking Martha. I don't really know Toni very much."

The things Shelby did for science like she actually cared about it. Part of her rational mind had a deep curiosity about how much Toni was really exaggerating on her response sheet, but it would have been a massive breach of responsible research protocol to find out. Shelby wasn't even supposed to know Toni's SID, much less wander about looking up very personal and confidential behavioral data. Shelby wasn't really one to shrink from tough issues, but pestering Martha about Toni's sex life dismayed her more than prospect of just going to Toni herself. Hell, at that rate, she could ask her inappropriate questions about Toni’s injury while she was at it.

+o+o

In any case, when Shelby saw Toni next it was hardly some sort of groundbreaking confrontation; certainly not the way Shelby had shouted her down in the cold room. Nora had “gone on service” which Shelby more or less took to mean that Nora was off doing doctor things. Without much pressing work and without Nora to serve as a social distraction, she found that she was actually rather bored. Everything was eerily quiet. Even the coffee shop had hardly any patrons. Baffled, Shelby went to clinic, but instead of finding the nurses busy with study participants, they were milling about restocking trays and drawers. The only sign of undergraduate life she had seen all day was Toni in one of the examination rooms.

She stood for a time, wondering what she should say. Even with her back turned, Toni seemed to exude a lingering sensation of judgement. It welled in a crest of embarrassment. Or was it something else, wounded pride? The feeling seated in a little ball of unease just above Shelby’s solar plexus _._ A hand on her shoulder made Shelby jump. Whirling, she saw it was one of the nurses.

“Shelby, here are those files you were asking about,” the woman said.

“Right, thanks,” said Shelby.

At the edge of her peripheral vision, Shelby observed Toni sidling away. Shit, her window was closing. Distracted, Shelby sidestepped to prevent Toni from trying to leave, but the nurse required her full attention. Toni had the iPad cradled against her chest as she brushed past. By the time Shelby freed herself sufficiently to look round again, Toni had gone. Well, that had hardly been a triumph of communication. Frustrated, she cast a passive aggressive little scowl of disapproval in the direction of the nurse’s retreating back and took her armful of visit logs to the table in the back of the clinic. Martha sat alone there, copying numbers into a massive spreadsheet. She slid over slightly when Shelby sank into a chair near her, pulling her papers into a tighter circle round her laptop.

“Can I ask you something?” Shelby said.

Without so much as pausing in her typing, Martha hummed in assent.

“Would you say Toni’s like, honest?”

“She’s not a thief. Usually.”

Shelby frowned, her expression torn halfway between amusement and confusion. “No, I mean, would she embellish a story? Tall tales?”

“Toni does enough dumb stuff without needing to lie about it.”

Waving it away, Shelby shrugged. “Nevermind.”

It _was_ a ridiculous question. Toni did not seem like she’d secretly enjoy relating fanciful fictional accounts of her exploits. It was becoming obvious here was no good way to address the problem herself, as it breached several layers of participant privacy rules stipulated by their Institutional Review Board approval. The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act. Basic manners. She’d have to get one of the nurses to do it the next time Toni gave blood for one of her monitoring visits.

“Has there been a plague I haven’t heard about?” Shelby inquired instead.

Forefinger hovering over the number three, Martha blinked. “A plague?”

“Where is everyone?”

“It’s summer. The semester is over.”

“What, when did it end?”

“Two weeks ago. Toni just came to say goodbye to me.”

Exhaling, Shelby shook her head a fraction.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be back in September.”

“You mean she won’t—” She bit back the rest of the sentence about Rachel, going on in a rush, “And what about you?”

Martha pulled a face. “I…didn’t do very well in biochem. I’m retaking it to try for a better grade. No public health schools are going to want me with a C minus.”

Shelby’s brain was still too focused on Toni for her to actually fully formulate a sentence offering Martha help with her biochemistry homework. She’d been drilled in it thoroughly, after all. The thought ended up being pushed from her mind entirely by the memory of the day she broke her arm. Toni kneeling there in a puddle of ruined coffee, hand waiting.


	6. Chapter 6

They took her splint off on a Tuesday. It took a few new rounds of X-rays to ensure the ends of the broken bone had knit back together, but the orthopedist seemed pleased with her progress and replaced the splint with a cylindrical brace that surrounded her upper arm. It strapped on tightly around the skin and muscle, with strapping to help stabilize her shoulder. At first, she would use it with a wrist sling, and then slowly wean off as her sessions with Rachel helped restore her strength. Several times she worked up the courage to ask Rachel about Toni, but then she remembered Rachel was bound by medical ethics not to say anything about her other patients. Her questions about Toni would have to go unanswered.

As the weeks of summer wore on she found herself spending more time with Martha, which was much easier to accomplish since she had been separated from Toni by virtue of the end of term. Shelby found her up to her elbows in biochemistry equations one day around lunchtime.

"Hi, Martha," Shelby said, sitting down beside her, frowning at the chemical structures that straggled across the page under Martha's forearm.

"Oh, hi," Martha mumbled, evidently startled to see Shelby had joined her.

"Having trouble?"

"How the hell am I supposed to learn all this stuff? There are all these enzymes and leaving groups. And this aldehyde wants that carbon, but it ends up on this one instead. That hydrogen is super promiscuous and just goes where ever, but it should really feel better about itself because it's a good proton and it doesn't have to jump around to just any oxygen that will take it."

"Are we talking about science or Dallas?"

Martha stared at her like she'd just spoken Latin. “The city?”

“There was a TV show…nevermind.” Sighing, Shelby tugged the sheet free and pointed to the top of Martha's picture, deciding to run with her confusingly weird chemistry/dating analogy.

"Right, so your hydrogen's all over the place and doesn’t listen to authority."

Martha nodded.

"Well, sometimes it needs to go through a bunch of bonds before it finds the right one. These two proteins help that happen. So where do you think it needs to go?"

"This nitrogen, but the nitrogen is from the wrong side of the tracks."

"Anyway," Shelby said with a widening of her eyes, refocusing Martha's attention. "The hydrogen needs to go to all of these places first, to put all the ducks in a row, and then finally it bonds with the nitrogen."

"Oh, good. I was afraid the hydrogen would never admit it loved the nitrogen, too."

Shaking her head, Shelby patted Martha on the shoulder. The girl wasn't an idiot, but she surely processed things in a way that made her conclusions seem like non-sequiturs. It gave Shelby an idea.

"Martha," she said slowly. "You had trouble the last time you took it, right?"

"I struggled all semester," Martha admitted.

"What if I helped you?"

"You don't have to do that Shelby."

"I'm not offering you a handout." Shelby hesitated then confessed, "I…failed too before I got a tutor."

"Okay. Seems like I'm getting the better end of the deal."

"It's not like I'm smart. I just had lots of help and second chances."

Martha brightened, as though hearing Shelby say she had been terrible at chemistry meant there was hope for students everywhere failing at pH calculations. Shelby smiled in return. Shelby tutored Martha through June and July, which struck Shelby as slightly ironic considering how much effort and money her parents had to spend on tutoring to get Shelby successfully out of college even with the extra year. But Shelby _did_ still remember every amino acid and agonizingly went through all of them, each exchange of a hydrogen ion, every catalyst that helped the reactions on their way. They took over one of the upstairs conference rooms, Shelby choosing one with a huge whiteboard so they could draw together, sometimes simultaneously as Shelby made changes to Martha's equations.

+o+o

Lunch at the university was always something of a sketchy affair, the options being limited by several factors, and it wasn't as though Shelby had time to cook for herself or something equally Plebeian. So more often than not, she dragged Nora to seek out food somewhere near to their dungeon of a basement lab. The best places were naturally the furthest away, the closest looking as though they were in danger of being closed by the health department at any moment, and those a middling distance away usually rife with throngs of undergraduates underfoot. Summer had thinned the crowds somewhat, but there were still enough people around to make waits inevitable.

Shelby turned against the wind as she and Nora waited for the signal to change at the corner of Washington and Walnut. Grit from the street swirled in the wind, briefly blinding her when it blew into her eyes. Scowling and blinking, she rubbed her face against her forearm, the hot air giving her the sensation she was caught in a large convection oven. She and Nora scurried across the roadway in a gap in the traffic, moving up the pavement in a mixed crowd of students and staff from the hospital. Usually they were a bit more prompt about getting out, but as it was, it was noon and the next corner held nothing but grim tidings. The lines at several of the restaurants exited their buildings and wrapped round into doorways and alleys.

"What do you think?" Nora asked.

Shelby huffed. "Not like we have a lot of choice.”

"I'll say here and now, fuck that line at Chipotle."

"All right. Just choose somewhere."

"It's not _that_ good. After waiting through that bullshit it better give me an orgasm."

Rolling her eyes and laughing, Shelby ignored the bulk of the doctor's complaining because she'd heard that particular diatribe on several other occasions. "I think you secretly love it."

"What? No! I lost all respect for them after they went completely non-GMO."

"Then let's not go there."

"Well, if the mainstream media would stop demonizing genetic engineering—"

"Are we going to eat or am I going to have to listen to another Ted Talk about the evils of Doctor Oz?"

Nora shut her mouth abruptly, lips pressing together with mild outrage. Shelby wasn't sure if it was because Nora had been interrupted mid-flow or if it was because she just knew Nora too well; she rather suspected it was the latter. Nora marched smartly with her toward the closest restaurant, which happened to be Chinese. That was fine with Shelby. Rice suited her mood and wasn't likely to prompt more outbursts on the contentious topic of genetically modified foodstuffs. Or she didn't think so until she remembered the Golden Rice debacle with a slight grimace. Fortunately, Nora held her peace entirely, sitting quietly across from Shelby until after they'd ordered. Then, all of a sudden, she sat forward, gazing at Shelby keenly.

"Hey, Shelby," said Nora. "What year were you born?"

"Don't you know not to ask a woman her age?" Shelby replied.

"Oh, come on. What year were you born? Tell me or I'm going to make it up."

Noticing the cheap paper placemats for the first time, Shelby looked down. They were typical of Chinese restaurants, ringed in a red pattern and featuring small drawings of the animals associated with the Zodiac signs. A poorly translated caption accompanied each. Shelby read through a few of them.

"You don't believe this nonsense, do you?" Shelby asked.

"Nah, of course not," said Nora. "Not much anyway."

Laughing, Shelby shook her head. "Yeah? And which are you?"

Nora's finger ran along the list, stopping in the lower left corner of her placemat. "I was born in the year of the Rat." She frowned. "Ugh, why did it have to be the Rat?"

"'You are ambitious but honest,'" Shelby read aloud. "'Prone to spend freely. Seldom make lasting friendships.'"

"This is casting me in a great light."

"'Most compatible with Dragons and Monkeys.'"

Nora smiled wryly. "I'll keep that in mind while I'm sorting through my _plentiful_ dating prospects.”

“Maybe you’d have more interest if you didn’t list your hobbies as Dungeons and Dragons and hanging out with your cat.”

“Hey, those are my hobbies!”

“Like I said.”

So, which one are you?"

"Says here I'm a Dragon."

"Ooh. 'You are eccentric and your life complex.'"

"Eccentric?"

"'You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. Marry a Monkey or Rat late in life.' Late in life? When the hell is that?"

"At this rate, I'm probably gonna end up a spinster."

Nora jabbed her finger at her. "I know I'm a Rat but don't get any funny ideas."

Shelby glanced at her, trying to bury the flash of aversion the comment conjured. She laughed weakly, but Nora saw the change in her expression and eyed her contemplatively.

“Just a joke, Shelby,” Nora said coolly.

“You’re not—are you?”

“What if I was?”

“I’m sorry.” Shelby held her head, planting her elbows on the table. “I was raised—It’s pure hate, treating folks that way. I’m not that person anymore, I’m not.”

“Is your family religious?”

“Southern Baptist.” Shelby gazed at her from beneath pressing fingers. “Daddy’d die if he knew I was up here not going to church.”

Nora’s expression changed subtly, no long appraising and instead taking on a kindness borne of comprehension. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. There are patients who almost need cult deprogramming when they come out of certain home situations. You’ve already taken a big step by wanting to be different.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Tell him the churches are all Lutheran.”

Shaking her head, Shelby blinked. “What?”

“Tell your dad you read the ‘Ninety-five Theses’ and had a vision to be reborn as a Lutheran.”

“Oh, he’d _love_ that.”

Smiling slightly, Nora drummed her fingers on the table. "Speaking of being born, are you coming to Martha's birthday thing on Friday?"

Making a dissenting noise, Shelby leaned back. "Oh, because the last time we went out went so well."

"That was months ago. Come on, she's turning twenty-one. That's a big deal."

“I wasn’t invited.”

“I got the impression it was a general lab invitation."

"Oh. Well, then I suppose yes. Were you not going to go?"

Nora shrugged. "I thought it might be weird if it was just me. She said something about going to the fair?" Returning to the Zodiac chart, Nora burst out laughing. "Hey, guess who's a Monkey?"

"Didn’t we just go through this and you said something about cult deprogramming?”

Nora mimed taking notes down on the palm of her hand. "Subject still too fragile for shock therapy." Nora sighed. "Spinsterhood it is, then."

+o+o

Their first mistake was trying to bake a cake. Nora and Leah were with Shelby in her kitchen, all gathered around Shelby's central island gazing down at the pathetic result of their efforts, the layer in the pan easily thin enough to use as a Frisbee if they so desired. They had been studying it for about thirty seconds in complete silence when Shelby suddenly picked the whole thing up and made for the door like a defensive lineman about to plow down the running back.

"Where are you going?" Leah said in alarm.

"To bury my shame," Shelby replied.

"With the pan?"

"No one else is seeing this."

"Shelby, you can’t bury it in the park.”

"I'll throw it into the river."

Nora carefully pried the pan out of Shelby's grip, appeasing her by disposing of the lot down the trash chute so the evidence wouldn't be left in her garbage can. It was not an auspicious beginning to their adventure, and so it was sans cake that the three of them made their way toward Como Avenue (by bus) because there was no other sensible way to go that didn’t involve being stuck in hours of traffic. The backs of Shelby’s legs were sticking to the vinyl upholstery in the heat despite the air conditioning. Leah stood over her, there being nowhere else to sit, occasionally ducking to look out the window at their progress.

“Is this your first State Fair?” she asked.

“Well, it’s my first summer in Minnesota,” replied Shelby. “We have the Texas State Fair in Dallas.”

“That’s right! The one with that big, creepy cowboy.”

“Does this one have a big, creepy gopher?”

Leah’s face went through several permutations of horror before she started laughing. “Thinking about a giant gopher looming over the Midway is straight nightmare fuel.”

“Is the Minnesota version as extra as Texas? Ours has the highest attendance of any in the country.”

“Excuse me while I find my note cards on fair statistics. I don’t know. It’s way bigger than anything I saw in California.”

“I read once that the fair covers three hundred twenty acres,” Nora said, pulling out her phone, “and has the highest single day attendance of any state fair.”

“That’s a deep cut, Nora.”

Shelby laughed. “As long as there’s trash food and cows somewhere, I think we’ll do fine.”

When they finally arrived and stepped down into the transit area at the northwest of the fairgrounds, the air was thick with the smell of hot fat and sugar. They queued up and with their tickets scanned they made their way past the gate to a plaza wrapping around a circle of flowerbeds. Ahead, Shelby spotted Martha and started to wave when she spotted the figure standing with her. Her heart sank slightly, hand sinking back down to her side. It was Toni. Apparently, the feeling was mutual, because as Toni turned away from Martha and saw Leah, she smiled. Then just as surely as Shelby’s buoyant mood had faltered, so did Toni’s smile. Her skin was maybe a little tanner, but otherwise the summer hadn't changed her much.

There was an instant when Toni looked like she wanted to lean toward Martha and say something, but just as quickly she stuffed her hands into her pockets, the urge quelled. They all greeted each other cheerfully enough, Martha hugging each of them by turn, until Shelby and Toni were standing slightly further away together. Their eyes met briefly, but Toni looked away almost at once.

Sure enough, there was plenty of trash food and plenty of cows. They started in the horse barn, which brought about some commentary on the size of the Percherons and a bit of giggling over dick jokes. The stall doors were separated from the public by ropes. She wondered how many kids had been bitten before some decree came down that everything needed to be cordoned off, preventing more accidents borne of passersby from sticking their hands between the bars trying to touch a nose or flank. Shelby knew enough about horses to know trying to pet a strange one was a fool’s errand anyhow. She was gazing up at a handsome Appaloosa dappled with dark spots, his coat freshly brushed and gleaming, when Toni approached her. Shelby noted her long pants even though it was August, in counterpoint to her tank top. She sidled up to look at the horse as well.

“Do you ride?” Toni asked. “I always took you for an indoor princess.”

“I’ve been once or twice,” replied Shelby.

“Okay, that doesn’t mean you’re not _mostly_ an indoor princess.”

“I’d saddle up and ride on out of here but I left my hat and spurs at home.”

“Brought the belt buckle though?”

“Great big one with a longhorn in the middle.”

Actually cracking a smile, Toni set her elbow on the stanchion, leaning on it slightly. “And here I thought you were Miss Texas.”

“Never made it past Miss Texas Teen.”

“Wait. For real? You were on the beauty queen circuit?”

Shelby rolled her eyes, asking her instead, “What about you? Do you dog sled?”

“Oh, yeah. We go ice fishing and everything. Big walleye.”

The easy banter had disarmed her a bit, and something in her didn’t trust it an inch. Shelby crossed her arms over her chest, dipping her head slightly.

“You don’t have to pretend to get along with me, Toni,” she said quietly.

Without looking at her, Toni feigned a big smile in Martha’s direction. “I just wanted us to be cool today. For Martha?”

“That’s all I’ve wanted this whole time.”

Nodding briskly, Toni strode a few paces away to catch up to Martha and Leah who had set off in the direction of the main grounds.

+o+o

They drank milkshakes in the sun, posed for goofy selfies in front of Highland cows. Viewed seed art portraits of Prince and Mr. T in the Agriculture Building. All seemed to go well until they went to the Creative Activities Building. It was full of quilts and clay figurines. Walking between the exhibits, Shelby paused in front of stained-glass entries hanging in front of a bank of lights to be judged. She and Leah spent some time admiring a pair of custom-tailored tweed trousers that had won “First Premium” with a blue ribbon pinned to a beltloop. Yes, all seemed well until they got closer to the central exhibit. A half dozen colorful dresses were offset from one another, each adorned with hundreds of embossed metal discs shaped into cones. Shelby was drawn toward it immediately, entranced by the cut and intricacy, but she noticed that Toni seemed to hang back slightly, the wariness in the set of her body putting Shelby on edge.

“Jingle dresses,” she heard Martha say.

She passed Shelby with her chin tilted upward to look at them more closely. It was practiced and appraising as she circled each one, a connoisseur’s eye.

“What are they?” Leah asked.

“Jingle dresses,” Martha repeated. “I think from Mille Lacs.”

“Is that your…uh, group?”

“No, I’m a member of Leech Lake.”

“They’re gorgeous. Are they just for show or are they for something?”

“Jingle dancing. I dance sometimes when I have time to train.”

Catching Martha’s positive mood, Toni interjected with, “Martha’s being modest. She went to nationals two years ago.”

Martha looked slightly exasperated at first, but then smiled at the pride in Toni’s grin.

“Show her.”

Martha demonstrated a few of the steps for Leah’s benefit, saying, “You dance fast and light, close to the ground so the cones jingle. When done well, it sounds like falling rain.”

Toni put her arms around Martha’s shoulders, giving her a little squeeze. “You good?”

Nodding, Martha moved back toward Shelby with Toni. “C’mon. I’m gonna kick your ass at carnival games.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, Blackburn. What should we play?”

“That water gun thing?”

“You know…since it’s your birthday and all, I could win you a fucking huge prize…”

Jumping up, Martha swung in front of her, gripping her by the forearms. “Toniiii, really? Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah. I can still shoot.”

They walked back to the Midway through the crowds, Toni and Martha arm in arm slightly ahead of the other three. Toni chivalrously ponied up for a sheet of game tickets and led the way to a booth with the word _SWISH_ in large sloping script hanging above two basketball rims. Overloud techno music blared around them amid the ominous creaking of metal from the rides. The barker was a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and a battered ball cap. He leaned out over his plywood counter, plying his usual tricks as he saw them approaching.

“Hey, you there,” he shouted through a speaker. “One ball, three tickets. Every score wins a prize!”

Toni had already torn the requisite number of squares out of the sheet by the time she reached him, handing them over.

“We have a contender!” he crowed.

“How many do I need for the jumbo?” Toni asked.

“Three my fair maiden! You make three baskets any of these fine prizes could be yours.”

He gesticulated with a yard stick at a sparkly black dragon, a fuzzy frog, and a stuffed puppy roughly the size of a Newfoundland. He handed her a striped basketball that as far as Shelby reckoned looked too small to be regulation. She bounced it experimentally a couple of times, and then stopped, glaring over at the barker. Seeming to think better of whatever she’d been about to say to him she squared the toes of her sneakers back up with the line and bounced the ball twice more. She rocked up on the balls of her feet, arcing the ball with nothing short of expert precision straight into the basket.

“Oh ho!” the barker boomed. “We have a winner!”

“Yeah, another ball.”

Toni and the barker traded tickets and basketball again. Once more she squared up and, with a few dribbles to center herself, Toni sank a perfect shot.

“And another _swish_!” the barker shouted.

Leah and Nora erupted into cheers and applause of congratulations. Martha also clapped but with an undertone of expectation, like she’d been watching Toni make amazing shots for years. A couple of teenage boys had stopped to watch, lingering nearby.

“Final try?” the barker goaded.

Toni indicated the sheet of tickets sticking out of her pocket to Leah, then lifted her hands to chest height and he tossed her the ball. Leah gave the man three more tickets. Lining up her next shot, Toni flexed her knees, then sent the ball skyward. There was something slightly awkward about it, maybe the way she stood with her weight mostly on her right or the step to the side she took. The ball seemed to hang in the air a long time, catching the left edge of the rim as it came down, bobbling slightly before rebounding out into the netting below the basket.

“What the hell?” Toni said, motioning toward the rim with her palm outstretched. “These balls are way overinflated.”

“Ooh, bad luck,” the barker said.

“This is some bullshit. This thing is rigged.”

“Look, kid. You can pay for another ball or you can accept defeat.”

“How about you give me another ball and I don’t report you.”

“Toni!” Martha shouted.

Toni rounded on her, pointing back toward the barker. “Marty, this shit is rigged. Am I supposed to put up with this?”

“Yes! All Midway games are rigged!”

Gaping like a landed fish, Toni stared at her for a few seconds, then stalked off, back down the aisle of stalls, disappearing into the crowd. As Shelby followed her with her eyes, she saw (and only because she was looking for it) the slightest suggestion of a limp. Nora and Leah glanced at each other, and then to Martha.

“Let her go,” Martha said, sounding both defeated and disgusted. “I knew this would happen.”

Shelby still watched the spot where Toni vanished from sight. “I’ll go.”

“Seriously, don’t waste your time.”

“It’s all right.” Shelby smiled at the others. “I’ll find her. Won’t take me long.”

She set off at an almost jog, not really sure what the hell she intended to do because searching 320 acres by her lonesome was surely an exercise in futility. But something in her gut told her that Toni wouldn’t have gone far, and she was glad she’d trusted her instincts when she saw Toni sitting on a bench around the corner. She was an odd image in the ebb and flow of the movement around her, still and contemplative with her fingers digging into her own thighs, a muscle flexed in her neck from clenched teeth. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. Shelby could see the strength and pride exuding from her, and also something that felt familiar, like regret. Approaching slowly, Shelby stopped a few feet away, waiting patiently for Toni to notice her.

“You can fuck right off,” Toni said without looking up.

“How long’d you play?” Shelby asked.

“I said—”

“Yeah, I heard the first time.”

Toni’s furious gaze, turned up to meet her own. “Then do I have to send you a fucking letter by certified mail? I said fuck off.”

“You can throw a fit if you want, but you asked me to be cool and I’m trying, Lord help me, to be cool.”

“Do you think you can just youth pastor me and everything is going to be fucking swell?”

Ignoring her little tantrum, Shelby sat down beside her. “How long did you play?”

“Like you even care.”

“How long. Did you. Play.”

Toni scoffed, but she didn’t get up and she didn’t yell again.

“You’re good.”

“Yeah. I was.”

Shelby turned toward her, hooking her left elbow around the back of the bench. “Tell me about it.”

“What’s there to fucking say, Shelby?”

All of sudden she bent down and wrenched up the left leg of her leggings, baring her scars for Shelby to see. It was worse than Shelby realized. She’d clearly had at least one extensive surgery. A long-jagged line of stitch marks crossed from the left side of her knee down her shin. Other smaller ones for drain tubes and scopes and whatever else her surgeon had required. The sweat was pooling behind Shelby’s knees, and no doubt Toni was sweltering in the heat, but as soon as she was satisfied that Shelby had seen and absorbed the extent of the damage, she pulled her leggings down again, extending her knee stiffly.

“You happy?” Toni asked acidly. “You need more?”

They both knew she didn’t and after another beat, Shelby inclined her head meaningfully.

“Fuck.” Toni buried her face in her hands.

“Hey—"

“No, I thought…I thought I could handle it and I ruined Martha’s birthday because of a stupid fucking Midway game.”

Shelby sighed, not wanting to preach or chastise. Instead, she stood up and offered her hand. At first Toni didn’t take it, but once she did, she squeezed it so tightly Shelby swore she could feel the bones grinding together. When it slackened, the savage pressure of the grip clung to her in memory.

+o+o

Shelby wasn’t sure how willing Martha would be to just hug it out and let the whole incident be forgotten, so she decided not to take any chances. She found a storefront that sold consolation prizes and got the biggest one she could by the simple expedient of paying for it. Toni spent several minutes being petulant and protesting, but Shelby reminded her they were supposed to “be cool” and she finally reluctantly accepted the fuzzy frog, resigning herself to bringing the boon to Martha under Shelby’s auspices. There was a fair bit of eye rolling on Martha’s part, but the frog was named Kermy and Toni was forgiven. An hour later Nora and Shelby were buying Martha beer in the coliseum, cheering total strangers and their ponies in the pleasure driving competition. Toni, however, was strangely quiet. She sat with her arms wrapped around the frog, and more than once, Shelby turned her head down the row to find her with her forehead furrowed, lost in thought.


	7. Chapter 7

News trickled out of Vac Tech that there was movement on the vaccine, or more correctly, funding. Somewhat belatedly, the team scrambled to put together a new enrolment in preparation for any additional studies before the vaccine went into production for the phase one. For two months she sat in meeting after meeting designing the study and planning recruitment. By the end, she was fairly certain she’d been introduced to every fucking administrator at the University. They went in excruciating detail through the participant consent forms and what her duties would entail while they attempted to recruit new students from the residence halls. The most salient point she’d gathered from the whole rigmarole, however, was that Daniel had never done an enrolment without Tim. The man couldn’t organize a steak dinner at a cattle ranch. Without Tim’s guiding hand and clinical experience as a physician, the recruitment looked grim.

That was how Shelby found herself literally running down Washington Avenue with sweat dripping off her face. Of all the days for her to be late, she couldn’t do much worse. Of all the days for her to be late _and_ lost, well, she might as well start writing out her resignation. Though to be fair, the whole reason she was late was because she was lost, and what? Were the undergrads fitted at orientation with some kind of internal campus GPS because not a single one of the residence halls was actually signed and they all looked the same: red brick with ancient windows that had to let in more of the wind in winter than they blocked.

Shelby paused in the shade of a big maple, trying to take a momentary reprieve from the brutal sun. Wiping a large bead of perspiration from her forehead she studied the entirely unhelpful map Nora had given her. It was labelled _The Superblock_ in large, bold letters. So called because of its location, four halls surrounding a central courtyard and taking up the eponymous superblock between Harvard and Oak Streets. Three damn halls she’d been in so far and none of them had been Frontier, which was the one she needed. Therefore, it was by arduous process of elimination that she finally strode up to the front door and trailed some hapless first year in because she didn’t have any keys to the building.

There were two sets of doors that led into the hall, separated by what was probably an “airlock” to help eliminate drafts. Shelby could only think of it in her head as “secondary containment” like a holding area between the cell blocks and visitation areas of a prison. She craned her neck, trying to see inside as the first year fumbled his identification card. Beyond the glass wall Shelby could see Martha, unsuccessfully trying to corral a few of the students.

Across her shoulders she bore a completely ridiculous looking sandwich board in neon colors inviting the undergrads to trade a few tubes of blood for cash with the terribly witty slogan _Got mono?_ Martha tried a few more times to attract attention, waving her arms and shouting after those who ignored her. Frankly, Shelby was unsurprised by their apathy; Shelby had argued for two weeks with Daniel about starting the enrollment for the study on the first day of the semester, had fought strenuously to begin during first year orientation, but all her effort had been in vain.

“We’ve done this before with great success,” Daniel had said. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that had been that, regardless of the fact the last study proved the students were _most_ likely to contract the virus that caused mono within a week of arriving on campus, and were thus already useless to the team by the first day of term. A mildly disgusting, but very true fact. The undergraduate boy ahead of Shelby finally successfully swiped his card. Irritated with the whole affair, Shelby moved past him and up the steps.

“Hi, Shelby!” Martha said, brandishing her lurid sandwich board. “Hot isn’t it?”

“I thought it was supposed to be cold up here!” Shelby replied. “How’s it going so far?”

Martha shook her head. “Not too bad. They’re down that hall in the first-floor lounge.”

Frowning, Shelby leaned to her left to look down the corridor. “Where are they doing the blood draws?”

“There’s a closet in there I think.”

Shelby tugged at the stiff collar of her blouse as she walked toward the indicated common room. The room was large enough, with full-length windows, but the temperature was even more potent than outdoors. Worse, it was humid and filled with aging furniture that stank in the heat, holding the distinct aroma of an ice hockey locker room as though the Minnesota Wild had come especially to have their sweat had soaked into the woodwork. Wrinkling her nose, Shelby pushed her way through the throng of students milling in the lobby and into the dishearteningly empty recruiting antechamber where Nora stood. Boxes of informational pamphlets, consent forms and pens littered the floor around her feet. Swinging round at the sound of incoming footsteps, Nora tripped over a stack of papers only to promptly spring back up again on the other side of the table.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” Nora said.

“Why?” said Shelby. “Nobody else is.”

Nora spiked her ballpoint on the carpet in mock disappointment. “We could test you. Just give me a Vacutainer of blood and I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

“Are _you_ negative?”

“You know, I have no idea.”

Bending down, Shelby retrieved the consent forms Nora had overturned. She deposited them in neat piles along with the ballpoints while the doctor rubbed her bruised knee.

“Have they all come and gone already?” Shelby asked.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen since the nurses and I set up,” said Nora.

Shelby glanced in the direction of the open cupboard and waved. “They’ve got to be sweltering in there.”

Turning to the window behind her, Nora flicked open the catch. She strained against the sash, pulling with all her strength for a few moments before deciding the thing wasn’t going to budge.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nora tried to next one as well. “Are they all stuck?”

Suddenly she started laughing, propping an elbow against the sill as she dissolved into giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Shelby said.

Nora gestured helplessly at something indistinct in the frame. “We’re screwed.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…literally screwed shut.”

“Oh, for—,” Shelby muttered. “Isn’t this like, illegal? What if there was a fire?”

“Looks like we’d perish in the conflagration.”

“It’s like a thousand degrees and we’re trapped in a room with windows that don’t open.”

Just then Martha came in, sandwich board and all, ushering an uncertain seeming girl wearing what Shelby guessed was supposed to be a dress but might have been a sack for how misshapen it was.

“Our first victim,” Nora said in an undertone.

An hour later, they were twenty potential participants into the session, ten of which had fainted during the phlebotomy portion of their screening in the heat. Shelby dragged the back of her hand across the side of her damp neck, pointing with her opposite hand at the lines on which the undergrad across from her had to fill in on the form.

“And how tall are you?” Shelby asked.

“Well, I _used_ to be five ten,” said the student.

“Are you…shrinking?” asked Nora.

“I don’t think so.”

“So, you’re five feet ten inches,” Shelby pressed.

The student shrugged. “If you say so.”

A twitch began somewhere in the region of Shelby’s left eye. She recorded the boy’s height with a force that should have punched a hole in her clipboard, but her voice was calm enough when she asked him, “Weight?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to lose w—“

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“I mean, I’d like to weigh—“

“I don’t care if you tell me in kilos, pounds, or stone, but I need your current weight.”

Taken aback, the boy blinked up at her. Nora smiled ingratiatingly as she snatched up Shelby’s clipboard. She guided him over to the blood draw line and left him there. After a quick word with the nurses in the cupboard, she returned to Shelby.

“Thanks,” Shelby said.

“That was for me,” admitted Nora.

“Dare I say it, but tempers are running a little high.”

She produced a thermometer from her pocket and handed it to Shelby. “I stole this. Just to satisfy my morbid curiosity.”

Shelby fanned herself with a sheaf of brochures on EBV from the Centers for Disease Control. “That _is_ a morbid curiosity.”

“Would you look at that! It’s so hot it doesn’t even register.”

Knowing full well the thermometers would record any temperature between -40°C and 100°C, Shelby rolled her eyes at the obvious hyperbole. She did, however, stand up and take the little glass cylinder from Nora so she could read it. For the love of all that was holy. Surprised, she brought it to Daniel at once. After a few suggestive throat clearings, she eventually had to drag his attention away from extremely uninteresting story with which he had been boring two squeamish looking young men.

“Daniel,” Shelby said. “You might want to take a look at this.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you see the red line on this thermometer? Yeah, and do you know what it means?”

Shelby placed one hand on the edge of the table where she and Daniel were facing off on opposing sides. Leaning over, Shelby held out the glass alcohol thermometer so her boss could take the reading. He angled his chin up as he squinted at the instrument, plucking his glasses from his breast pocket with thumb and forefinger when he realized his eyes were too bad to make out the tiny numbers unassisted. Putting the glasses on, he straightened up.

“Thirty-seven,” Daniel replied.

“Which would be lovely and brisk in Fahrenheit, but that’s thirty-seven degrees Centigrade.”

“I’m aware of the differences in the scales.”

Shelby carefully laid the thermometer on the table. “The nurses have taken blood from twenty-two students and eleven of them have fainted. This may be my first rodeo, but it is not going well.”

“What do you propose?”

“Nora would like fans and more water, at the very least. Preferably with ice. Can you get that?”

Nodding, Daniel wagged a finger. “Right. I’ll see what I can do.” He scurried away under Nora’s approaching glare.

“It’s like he once saw an apple and now every piece of fruit is an apple,” said Nora.

“What?” Shelby asked.

Nora motioned toward the door through which Daniel had just disappeared. “Daniel. He keeps saying, ‘Oh, it was fine last year’ but this is nothing like last year. Last year we recruited at night. Last year we had a decent draw room. Last year it wasn’t a hundred degrees.”

“Are things going that badly?”

Sighing, the doctor crossed her arms. “Half the problem is the students. It’s the first day of class so of course they’re all dehydrated and none of them have eaten. Last year we recruited during dinner so they were fed and weren’t running around with their heads cut off.”

“Why didn’t we just do that?”

“The clinic staff didn’t want to work the evenings again, which—“ She held up both hands. “—I get, really, but it would have…whatever. It is what it is.”

“I hope we get enough people.”

“Me, too.” Nora beckoned over the next undergrad, adding over her shoulder to Shelby, “I’m calling the fire marshal when I get home. This thing with the windows is bullshit.”

“Shelby!” one of the nurses hissed from a startlingly close proximity. “We have another fainter.”

Muttering under her breath, Shelby ducked into the tiny space the nurses were using as an impromptu clinic. It was at least five degrees warmer inside than in the already unbearable lounge. Shelby sank to her knees beside the prostrate student, lifting his legs onto a chair while the nurse asked him questions and plied him with a bottle of water. Suddenly, he bolted upright and, in the instant that it took for Shelby to realize he was about to throw up, she also realized that she wasn’t going to be able to completely escape in time. She rocked back on her heels, head twisting away, but instead of warm splatter of vomit, the cool edge of a metal trash can pressed into her thigh, saving her. She took it automatically, holding it for the student while he emptied his stomach with her face averted.

“Thanks,” she said wearily to whoever had spared her trousers.

Nora touched her shoulder. “At least he doesn’t need CPR.”

+o+o

The enrollment took nearly three weeks to complete. By the time it was over, Shelby thought the promise of autumn would be a little kinder since the beginning of her tenure in Minnesota had been difficult between patents and ex-boyfriends and broken bones. But the fall kicked off with a spate of bad news, which became something of an all-day affair, initiated by the email she received at six o'clock in the morning. Shelby rolled over in bed and by instinct reached for her phone as she usually did. Most of the junk in her inbox she deleted without even reading it until she got to a message from Daniel.

Daniel Faber (umn,edu)  
To: [Clinic Staff], [Lab Staff]  
Vaccine Funding

Sorry for the late notice, but would like to get everyone together this morning to discuss Vac Tech (new holder of the EBV vaccine patent) and funding. Shelby and I to present at 1000 in clinic.

Daniel

Shelby's literal reaction was to hit "Reply" and type out _WTF Daniel?_ before she remembered she was writing an email to her _de facto_ employer and probably should rein in her usage of the word fuck, in acronym form or otherwise. So instead she composed a slightly more diplomatic reply that ran along the lines of _Not aware I was presenting today, please advise_. Because she'd heard absolutely nothing new about the vaccine funding that everyone else didn't already know; so why the hell was he asking her to co-present like she was harboring some kind of exciting secret? When she arrived to lab about nine, she immediately cornered Nora as she had yet to hear back from Daniel.

"What's this about me presenting?" Shelby said.

"Why are you asking me?" Nora replied.

"He seems to think I know something about the vaccine funding."

"Maybe it was a typo. Or an autocorrect."

Shelby, not particularly relieved by either of those suggestions, sat fidgeting restlessly at her bench until Nora threatened to take all her buffers away, summarily ejecting the agitated Texan from the lab. She went to Daniel's office, but he was naturally nowhere to be found. Over the next hour there was no clarification forthcoming so with a baffled shrug from Nora they went to clinic and sat down with the Leah, the only undergrad who apparently did not have a conflicting commitment that morning. Daniel was the last person in, leaving Shelby nervous and confused as he passed a packet of papers around the circle.

"Hello ladies and…" Daniel stalled as he counted the faces around him and realized there weren't any gentlemen aside from himself. "And ladies. As you know the patent to the EBV vaccine was acquired by a small start up by the name of Vac Tech."

"Still sounds like they sell vacuum cleaners," Nora murmured in an undertone.

"...really want to work with us on testing the vaccine, so we are still the top site for the study! Unfortunately, they lack the startup capital to help us fund the phase one trial."

"Why pay for it yourself when the tax payers will do it?" Nora added.

"…is why Shelby has some splendid news to share with you all."

"Wait, what?" said Shelby, tuning back into what Daniel was saying.

"Tell them the good news about the funding."

"What good news?"

Daniel frowned. "That GoodkindTaylorWise is in negotiations with us to fund the trial."

"They're what?" Shelby's mouth fell open.

"I thought…"

"You're joking."

"Shelby you…oh. You're serious then. Um, GTW is planning to sponsor the phase one trial in collaboration with Vac Tech." Daniel tittered awkwardly. "Better than passing the old hat around the clinic."

That interfering, good for nothing—a flash of white-hot indignation seared through Shelby's chest. It was a horrible conflict of interest; they all knew it. She said her next words in a carefully controlled tone, trying to not to let her voice shake.

"How long have you been in talks with them?"

"GTW contacted me last month," Daniel admitted.

"Who was it?"

"A lawyer, Walter Hendricks."

“Wally! He doesn’t know anything about licensing!”

Not very subtle or indeed, very clever, having Wally do it rather than an experienced lawyer from the Chicago office. Probably there _were_ intellectual property lawyers involved, but her father must have chosen Wally because he was close and did what he was told. But a month! A whole month! Either Dot or her mother _must_ have caught wind of the contract and hadn't tried to warn her at all. Unless Dave had actively hidden the arrangement with Vac Tech, which would have been quite a feat as Dot was pretty sharp. Shelby took a deep steadying breath, trying not to be angry with Dot, because she knew whom the villain in the situation was and it wasn't her old friend.

"I thought you were aware," Daniel muttered. "We’re still in negotiations. We’ll need to hammer out a material transfer agreement and perform the vaccination schedule recommendation from this enrollment. They want to send a feasibility team once we have that figured out, maybe do a site visit late this year.”

Shelby said nothing, the frustration giving way to disappointment. With a last flustered peek at Shelby, he shuffled his papers in the manner of an agitated news anchor.

"Since GTW is working with us on this, they've made a few requests." He paused. "Which we can discuss in a few days during our regular meeting." He visibly winced before saying, "So splendid news all around. The vaccine trial is happening!"

Shelby shot out of her chair and bolted from the clinic. Her first instinct was to phone Dot, but she was probably didn’t know much more than Shelby. If she had something to hide, then it was a crime of omission, as though either of them could have stopped Dave. Shelby took the lift up to the thirteenth floor. The Department of Surgery had a nice sitting area and terrace because physicians got granite flooring and oak paneling while lowly immunology grad students got beige linoleum that hadn't been replaced in thirty years. The terrace was wet, the tiny fir trees in the corners bent and woebegone in the wind. Shivering, she paced up and down the length of the terrace, resisting the urge to hurl her phone into the parking lot below as it rang. Voicemail. She tried a different tack.

"Office of David Goodkind," a chipper voice sang out. "Helen speaking, how might I assist you?"

"Hi Helen, it's Shelby," Shelby answered.

"Shelby, it's been so long! How have you been?"

"Fine, is my dad in?"

"No, afraid he just stepped out for a meeting. Can I take a message for you?"

Shelby sighed quietly. "Thanks, Helen, but no. I'll just try again later."

"Don't be a stranger, Shelby!"

Her phone clutched tightly in her hand, Shelby made a last slow circuit along the terrace, gazing out into the greyness of the mist that hung over campus like a damp, suffocating blanket. The whole city just seemed to dissolve into the water vapor. The EBV vaccine was well under the radar of most large firms; the sudden funding from GTW had to be her father’s doing. It was a good deal for Vac Tech. GTW had large purifying and adjuvanting centers, distribution channels, everything. Vac Tech would just need to supply the patent and the cell stocks for the starting material.

A new email from Daniel waited in her inbox as her phone buzzed in her grasp. The man, damn him, had reneged on his promise. It outlined the extra testing GTW Pharma requested and they had three main stipulations. They wanted EBV strain sequencing, samples from volunteer significant others to examine transmission, and a working neutralizing antibody assay. Preliminary data needed to be presented to GTW representatives who would visit the first week of December, with a more complete set during the official site visit in January. She'd never have it all done in time, not to industrial standards; Nora had her own projects and Shelby was just one person.

She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and sighed. What the hell was she going to do?

+o+o

By the time Shelby reached home that night, it was after 10pm, her mind still racing. It wouldn't do to phone her hapless mother in what was approaching the middle of the night. Not even Shelby was quite that cruel. Instead, she sat woke up early, drinking tea and reading about the antibody assay she was supposed to be developing. Single-handedly. With no medical grade protein since there was no material transfer agreement. She ultimately decided the best course of action was to consult the scientists at GTW. Maybe they had something in the works that she could optimize for her own use. It was nearly eight in Minneapolis when she felt her mother would probably be on her way to work.

"Please tell me you didn't know," Shelby said without giving Jobeth a chance to even say hello.

“Well, good morning to you, too, missy,” her mother replied. “You’ve barely called me all summer and now this.”

“Mama, not now. Please tell me you didn’t know GTW is funding the compounding and phase one trial for the vaccine."

Her mother exhaled slowly.

“You knew?!”

“Shelby—”

"Mama, this is important to me. Do you know what Daddy has done? Does the phrase 'conflict of interest' mean anything to you? Because he has well and truly sunk this for me, do you understand that?"

"Shelby, I—"

"Even if I sold out my interest in the company no one is going to believe an efficacy study with my name on it, because _of course_ I'm going to tell the scientific community the vaccine is great when my family stands to make a metric ton of money off it."

"Shelby, you're being melodramatic."

"Then tell me how Daddy’s meddling hasn’t destroyed the integrity of the whole project I moved up here to work on. Please.”

Jobeth tutted, shaming her into silence. “Now, Shelby I know you’re grown and independent, but I won’t have you speaking to me that way.”

Shelby wanted to scream incoherently into the ether, but she clenched her molars together knowing she wouldn’t get any further without the pretense of being respectful. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Apology accepted.”

Shelby cast her eyes skyward, squeezing in, "I did try to call Daddy first."

"First of all, you know your daddy was just acting in your best interest," Jobeth continued when she was sure she wouldn't be interrupted again. “Seems to me like there wasn’t much chance of the vaccine moving forward without a little injection of capital.”

"You know that's not true. It had a good chance of being added to the early adolescence vaccination schedule, around the time they administer the HPV series."

"Your daddy thought it was a good business decision. We offered to help get this going in exchange for part of the profits."

Shelby sighed, her anger ebbing into resignation. "No, it's fine. I understand."

“Shelby, we just want to see you do well up there. I know you don't want to hear this, but this trial wouldn't be happening at all without the company."

"Am I supposed to feel comforted?”

"I know you’re upset with us now, but I wager you’ll be grateful in a few years. Scientists publish all the time with declared conflicts of interest, Shelby. That’s why we have ethics regulations.”

"I just—" Shelby broke off, shutting her eyes. "I never wanted to have to publish as an author on some trial my dad funded. It’s demeaning. It’s embarrassing."

"You're a _good_ scientist, Shelby."

"No, I feel like a fraud."

"That doesn't mean you're not a good scientist."

"Why do ya’ll have to interfere with everything I do?”

“Shelby. I don’t know where this attitude is coming from. It’s not like you at all.”

Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, Shelby didn’t reply.

“I heard you and Andrew split up. Is that right?”

Shelby could have smashed her phone with her bare hands, but she forced the words up and out, sugar coated poison. “Yeah, made sense with him traveling so much.”

She pulled on that old agreeable mask and endured the rest of the conversation.


	8. Chapter 8

Having hardly recovered at all, Shelby paid a visit to Daniel's office, her thoughts carefully composed in a series of points on a sheet of paper. The first and foremost thing was to get the deadlines augmented because they were utterly unrealistic at the lab's current staffing level. Second, she wanted to outline her experimental plans and to get the lawyers working on the material transfer agreement so she could start sharing protocols and reagents with GTW as soon as possible. Third, to emphasize to Daniel that she was _not_ a GoodkindTaylorWise representative; she didn't and wouldn't operate in that capacity. She would be able to participate as a researcher in the study only as a borrowed grad student, wherever that left her in terms of authorship on the phase one trial, and that she hadn't known about or coerced the vaccine funding in any way.

Daniel welcomed her into his tiny office with a quick jerk of his hand as he leaned away from his monitor. He nodded thoughtfully and was fairly amenable to all her suggestions save one: the deadlines. He didn't know what they could do to help her finish in time, but that was one thing that could not be changed given how many months they had left to gain approval from the necessary review boards and the Food and Drug Administration. GTW needed their data because the FDA would want it, not simply a pedantic pursuit of epidemiological investigation. Nevertheless, she was just one student and it was a deadline she simply couldn’t meet.

Shelby's life did not begin and end with the vaccine trial, however, and she was reminded how important mundane things were when Toni made a reappearance during lab meeting. Nora and Shelby were quite early, sitting together complaining about the weather, primarily Shelby's inability to fend off said weather with appropriate clothing since she the only heavy coat she’d owned had been destroyed in The Great Spring Arm Breaking Tragedy. Nora took one look at her and point blank refused to go anywhere near a retailer of outerwear in her company. Shelby's wheedling “C’mon” was cut short by a large cup of coffee being set down on the table from over her shoulder.

Still somewhat traumatized when it came to coffee, she eyed the thing suspiciously, then glanced up to see where it had magically appeared from. Shelby swiveled in her chair, looking up at Toni with a puzzled expression, surprised not only to see her but to be brought something to boot. The girl was handing a second cup to Martha, who immediately put it down and said something to Toni that Shelby didn’t quite catch.

“Hard pass,” Toni replied.

“Please, Toni,” Martha pleaded.

Toni rolled her eyes, which was apparently a yes to whatever the question was, because Martha bounced up clapping her hands together. Toni held up her index finger at Shelby as she walked backward toward the tunnel.

“You have _one_ hour, Texas,” Toni said, then turned on her heel.

"Toni will go with you," Martha declared as though they were all supposed to know what the hell she was talking about.

"Where is Toni going?" Nora said, bewildered.

"To help Shelby get a coat."

Shelby's disbelief about the whole situation must have shown on her face because Nora started to laugh.

"Why is this happening?" Nora asked incredulously.

"She'll know what to do," Martha said with some finality.

What did Shelby have to lose? Even if the prescribed “ _one_ hour” alone with Toni didn't exactly sound like a picnic, if she was as qualified as Martha claimed, who was Shelby to go around looking gift horses in the mouth. Winter would soon be in full swing again.

So she said, "Right. When are we going?"

"This weekend, I guess. You'll have to work it out with Toni.”

“That’s not—“ said Shelby, then frowned at Martha. “You’re not coming with us?”

Martha shook her head ruefully. “I'd go but my mom is going to be in town. Let me give you her number."

+o+o

That night Shelby texted her, tried to keep the message simple and to the point.

_This is Shelby. Thanks for agreeing to go shopping. When is convenient?_

The reply was almost instantaneous. _sat noon?_

_Where should we go?_

An address to an outdoor store on Cedar Avenue appeared. _wear practical shoes_

_Haha. Very funny._

Shelby waited about ten minutes, compulsively checking her phone as she brushed her teeth and changed her clothes, but she supposed Toni had nothing more to say because no more texts were forthcoming. It was the longest conversation they'd ever had without an undertone of hostility. Unable to resist, she sent one last message.

_Thanks for the coffee_

Then she practically slapped herself for being so stupid about a silly text exchange with a belligerent undergrad that she didn't even like.

+o+o

Alan Dawes (bcm.edu)  
To: Shelby Goodkind (umn.edu)  
RE: Conflict of Interest

First, breathe deeply. All will be right.

Jobeth isn’t wholly correct. Those statements exist if _you_ were to start a company all your own to fund the trial. GTW funding it is a different animal. Nevertheless, as much as I hate to say it, you do have the promise of steady funding, despite the potential conflict of interest. Many of these studies go tits up (if you'll pardon the phrase) when they don't have any money. You'll have a number of respected faculty with no financial interests working with you on the project, although I can't say I'm pleased with Daniel for his disregard for your career.

You know I’m always here if you need to talk.

Alan

+o+o

Toni met her Saturday at noon in front of a rundown looking outdoor shop on Cedar Avenue. It was situated next to a similarly rundown looking bike shop, and she guessed they were meant to be trendy in a hipster sort of way. Especially since the establishment had "Mountaineering" in its name like Minnesota was not one of the flattest places Shelby'd ever visited in her entire life. Maybe the owners thought it was clever. She couldn't tell. Toni was waiting when she got there, sitting on top of an empty bike rack on the corner.

She had on the Minnesotan uniform of buffalo check with Vans and a rip in her jeans, glimpses of her bare right thigh pale in the cold of the midday sun. Her hair was all gathered back away from her face, braided in a plait across one shoulder. She hopped down as Shelby approached, taking in the Texan’s uncharacteristically casual trousers and sneakers with a self-satisfied smirk. Shelby had taken her advice. Before Shelby could even squeak indignantly at the smile, Toni looked at her with a twitch of one eyebrow that, if Shelby wasn't careful, she might start mistaking for concern.

“How’s it going?” Toni asked.

"Great," Shelby said sarcastically. "How am I supposed to get the testing done before December?”

“You should find some of those elves. Like the ones that do shoes for cobblers, except lab work.”

Shelby smiled at the dumbness of the joke, but it was a little too close to the bone to get her to laugh. Toni gestured for Shelby to precede her, and together they made their way down the street to the storefront. The cracked blue lettering on the windows put Shelby in mind of a ski chalet from the 70's, but once she stepped inside she realized Toni had better taste than she had given her credit for. The shop was decent, even by Shelby's standards. Toni brought her straight through to what seemed a warehouse of coats with the walls paneled all in aspen like a Nordic sauna. Beyond there were yet more rooms of camping equipment, cross country skis, snowshoes, and who knew what else.

"Hey," Shelby said, looking up at the large dog sled hanging from the ceiling.

For a second, Toni smirked again, cat-like and inscrutable. “How do you think Martha and I get home for Christmas?”

Crinkling her nose, Shelby made a circle around several of the racks, examining the wares before returning to Toni. She promptly pulled a hip length down jacket from a hanger and unzipped it, holding it out for Shelby to slip on. After a moment of immobility on Shelby’s part, Toni wrapped it around her, rotating her enough that she could see the rough fit of it on Shelby's lean frame. Surprised, Shelby blinked; the jacket wasn't half bad.

It was the first of many. They wandered around the shop, picking up a veritable mountain of down jackets, coats, and parkas of various cuts and colors. It turned out that Toni knew a ridiculous amount about technical fabrics, linings, and the importance of down fill power. One of the clerks attempted to assist them, but Toni calmly sent him away with a glare once it became obvious he was going to more hindrance than help. Shelby tried on the coats in a long procession of presentations. The coats Toni seemed to think would keep her warmest Shelby did not find flattering to her figure in the least.

"You can't even tell I'm a woman!" Shelby moaned.

“We have one gender in winter, Texas,” Toni retorted. “Marshmallow.”

Toni twirled her finger until Shelby spun obediently, then relented when Shelby insisted it was too ugly to be purchased. On the next coat their reactions switched.

“Yeah, that won’t keep you warm,” Toni told her.

Disappointed, Shelby disappeared behind their pile of potentials. Four coats later, Shelby decided she might do better sussing out what Toni herself would find an acceptable balance between form and function.

“What does your coat look like?” she asked as Toni leaned against the wall.

“What coat?”

“Come on, you must have a coat.”

“You’re the one who’s cold.”

Shelby stared at her a few seconds before deciding she must be messing with her again because the winter wasn’t even properly started and already Shelby was certain she was destined to become a full-sized piece of installment art when she solidified on some windswept street corner. An hour later they had compromised on several items: a knee length down parka, two hip length down jackets in varying levels of puffiness, and finally a shell for snowy days. Shelby felt like she was about to scale Everest. When they left the shop, they walked together to the corner, a stretch of concrete wet with a dusting of snow and hardening chill as the traffic whipped noisily by just a few feet away. Eventually, Shelby asked a question that had been stewing in her mind for several days.

“Why’d you agree?” Shelby said. “To come with me today?”

“I don’t know.” Toni shrugged. “I didn’t want it to just be like, ‘RIP, Shelby froze to death.’”

“Aw, I’m touched.”

“Ah, there it is.”

“Toni.” Shelby’s hand darted out to catch her by the elbow, but the she remembered as her fingers touched fabric she needed to be gentle and turn her slowly. “I never thanked you, not properly in words for what you did for me in April. Thank you.”

Shrugging thoughtfully, if that was possible, Toni walked away, ambling down the slope back toward campus.

“Do you need a ride?” Shelby called.

Toni didn’t answer.

+o+o

Shelby knew Nora was a good friend, the way she helped with dozens of little things, but the thought solidified in her mind when she just checked in out of the blue one day while they were working together at Shelby's lab bench.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm almost finished. Thanks for opening all the tubes for me."

"No, I mean you. Personally."

Her surprise must have been evident, because Nora laughed.

"Sorry, I know I'm about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Shelby clicked shut the lid of her last tube, her smile wistful. "I'm all right. Wish this shenanigans with GTW wasn’t happening, but I suppose it could be worse.”

“How was shopping with Toni?”

"Yeah, good. She knew her stuff.”

"I’m glad." Nodding, Nora stood up and went to the supply shelf. "Do you know what happened to all the glassware?”

"Don't look at me."

"Ten bucks says the techs delivered them to the wrong lab again. It's very simple. We give you dishes. You wash the dishes. You give them back to us.”

Nora slipped out of her lab coat and sat back down at her desk. She leaned back in her chair as she said, "You know one of my professors in med school was this tiny Russian lady who did research in the USSR. She told me they used to drink the ninety percent ethanol sometimes. She would say to me, 'Little bit for experiment, little bit for me. Little bit for experiment, little bit for me.' I can see how she'd be driven to a life of substance abuse."

Shelby laughed. "Shame they cut it with methanol now."

"The blindness is kind of a deterrent." Sitting up, Nora clicked her fingers. "You think if I bribe the dish people with liquor they'll stop messing up the deliveries?"

"I think getting them drunk will only make it worse."

"Dammit—"

Nora stopped short as Daniel came into the lab, looking rather out of place, strolling apprehensively between the benches until he found Shelby and Nora sitting at the end of their bay.

"Shelby," he said quickly, relief evident in his tone. "I think I may have found a solution to our little problem."

"Which problem is that?"

"Our labor issues." He puffed up his chest as he announced proudly, "I'm going to give you an undergrad."

"You're _giving_ me an undergrad."

"Well, perhaps I should say assigning you an undergrad."

"Someone I'll need to train?"

"Yes, unfortunately, but I thought allowing them to do most of the rote work would free you up for more important tasks."

Shelby scowled. "I want to say first I appreciate the effort, but I also want to say that I only have a couple of months left and training someone is going to take valuable time.”

"Well, I'll leave it to your discretion, Shelby," Daniel quavered, taken aback. "An extra pair of hands could make a difference come spring. I'm sure they’ll be forgiving if the preliminary data is a bit behind."

He winked at her, and she quelled the desire to give him a dressing down, because that was exactly the sort of thing she'd warned him she didn't want, like she wanted any special treatment from GTW. She contented herself with mimicking him in a profoundly juvenile way once he left the lab.

"An undergrad!" she exclaimed. "He thinks an undergrad is going to help me enough to make this deadline? I'll probably only end up with contamination issues on top of everything else."

"In the long run, it probably would help," said Nora reasonably. "Assuming whoever it is isn't a complete idiot."

Shelby turned her back, incensed Nora should make any sense at all.

+o+o

Toni's text surprised her because it came completely unprompted in the middle of the night.

_wednesday?_

It confused her so much she spent twenty minutes lying only half awake trying to work out what Toni was talking about, and eventually she just texted back _What?_

_pcr_

_What about PCR?_

_me and pcr_

_Are you asking how to do one?_

_you put precise volumes of clear liquids into other clear liquids_

_You didn't answer my question._

_how hard could it be?_

Shelby was almost asleep again when she started upright. Daniel had found her help: Toni was her brand-new undergrad.

+o+o

"Daniel," Shelby repeated, "you cannot give me a completely inexperienced undergrad and expect me to have her working independently in two weeks. I don't even know if she's ever done a PCR before."

Not even seasoned technicians learned new workflows that fast. They hustled down the hallway on the way to the clinic, Shelby practically nipping at Daniel's heels like an overexcited terrier. He tugged at the lapel of his jacket as though that would defend him from her, dragging it up beneath his right ear.

"Toni seems very bright," Daniel said meekly.

"Yes, I agree with you, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be wasting time. I only have until December."

"You won't know if you don't give her a chance, hmm, Shelby?"

Shelby halted in the doorway of the clinic. At the end of the corridor Toni and Martha sat with Leah at the long table, Martha talking to Leah and highlighting various pieces of information and Toni entering numbers into a laptop. Toni had her back turned, but Shelby recognized her by her hair; wavy and dark, swept away from the side of her neck. Shelby grimaced. That had been her fatal error in the first place with Toni, hadn't it, not giving her a chance? Not that she deserved a chance in the current circumstances. Rubbing her temple in frustration, Shelby acquiesced.

"She spends one week in lab with me," she said. "We’ll have to play it by ear from there, okay?”

"Fair enough," Daniel conceded.

Shelby approached the girls slowly, saying hello to Martha well back from Toni to prevent her from being startled. Toni glanced up at Martha, and then looked up into Shelby's face as she touched her arm. She moved to the side, allowing Shelby to sit next to her.

“Warmer?” Toni asked.

Shelby smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah. Still look like a marshmallow though.”

Smirking, Toni rolled her eyes.

“Daniel says I’m supposed to give you a job in the lab.”

Not really a nod, but Toni inclined her head in consent. “Yeah, he said he wanted me to take over the PCR.”

“Have you ever done lab work before? Like outside of class?”

“No.”

It was the only shot she had. Shelby gave her a chance.

+o+o

Nora's single criteria for success in an undergraduate lab assistant fully displayed she didn't have much in the way of discerning standards, but at least she got her wish. Toni Shalifoe was far from an idiot. She turned up at the appointed hour on Wednesday, sauntering into Shelby's bay and waiting there. She fidgeted with the pipettes and bags of tubes before noticing a stack of protocols on Shelby's desk, written out like a cookbook of scientific experiments. So many microliters of this mixed with so many millilitres of that; incubate at 37°C for one hour. It was just baking with biology. Shelby considered Toni critically, then decided PCR was probably the most time consuming and repetitive of the jobs she did on a daily basis.

“First thing’s first,” Shelby said. “Did you do your blood borne pathogens training?”

“Yeah,” said Toni. “I basically learned if I ever get to kill the person who wrote that module that I should cover the body with paper towels and soak them with bleach.”

"iPad," Shelby said, holding out her hand.

Toni cocked an eyebrow, but produced the tablet from her backpack, opening up a drawing app for Shelby to use. Shelby wrote PCR quickly at the top of the screen.

“PCR stands for polymerase chain reaction. Do you know how it works?”

She glanced at Toni, who shrugged, eyes focused on the iPad. “More or less.”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, cool.”

Shelby shifted a bit closer, her shoulder pressing against the warmth of Toni's arm as they leaned together.

“DNA comes in a double helix. When you heat it up, it 'melts.'” She drew two straight lines, one over the other. “DNA is long, but sometimes we want to only look at a little piece of it. We take the DNA and amplify a small portion of it with smaller pieces of DNA called primers.”

Shelby drew two shorter lines on opposite ends of the two larger lines, one above and one below. Nodding again, Toni traced her fingertip over Shelby's sketch.

“How big are the primers?” Toni asked.

“Tiny, only a few dozen base pairs.”

Shelby guided Toni through the rest of the process, Toni's face focused and earnest as she followed the flow of Shelby's explanation. Her questions were clever, showing how keen the mind behind them could be when intent. Shelby only needed to show her once how the pipettes functioned, emphasizing the importance of a good seal between the instruments and their plastic tips, the difference between the first stop and the second when dispensing reagents, and what the tiny numbers printed on each one indicated. As with all her students, Shelby gave her a brief test to make sure Toni could be accurate and precise in her measurements. Much as in sports, when scientists are skilled at making experiments go off without a hitch they're described in the vernacular as having "good hands." Toni had good hands.

After letting Toni read completely through the protocols Shelby got her a rectangular pan of wet ice, tucking all the reagents she would need into the corners and allowed her to set up her first PCR. Shelby did the first half of the 96-well plate as a demonstration, pausing to describe each step to Toni. She struggled with a few of the caps until Toni recognized the pattern and pre-emptively opened and adjusted things for her in a subtle ballet of thumbs and wrist movements. Toni was beautifully intuitive, somehow anticipating what Shelby needed and eventually Shelby stopped giving her any instructions at all; Toni didn't want or need her to do it. They worked, communicating seemingly in the staccato rhythmic dance of snapcaps and pipette tips as she ejected them.

When Toni took a place at the bench to finish her half of the plate, Shelby lingered at her elbow to observe. Shelby only saw her load the first two wells before she found herself looking at Toni's eyes. She'd reported for her first day of lab looking unusually serious. Okay, so she generally looked serious. Maybe the word Shelby was searching for was open. Not shut off and reticent.

It took Shelby a few moments to realize Toni had finished. She smirked, amused but not reproachful, and Shelby blushed at being caught. She was meant to be watching Toni, but her _technique_ , not the _girl_ and the clear flick of her gaze. The undergrad could have done a completely wretched job of loading the plate with Shelby none the wiser for all the attention she paid. Shelby cleared her throat, concealing her awkwardness by picking up the plate and holding it up to the light. Pointing to two wells where the liquid hadn't quite made it to the bottom, she tapped the sides until the bubbles vanished. Shelby sealed the plate up and stuck it in the thermal cycler.

"Now we wait two hours," Shelby said, as the machine ramped to the right temperature. “How often can you be here?”

If they were going to make the first goal, then the more often, the better.

o+o

When Shelby checked the results of Toni's handiwork three hours later, Nora went along to pass judgment on the outcome. She sat up on a stool, while Shelby photographed the agarose gel that would specify success or failure.

"One of these days," said Nora absently, "I'm going to write a romance novel. I want to call it PCR," she waved her hand dramatically through the air, "the Polyamorous Chain Reaction."

Shelby rolled her eyes, changing the contrast on the photo, but then a soft smile spread across her face, cutting through her annoyance at the bad joke. Beneath the PCR reactions Shelby had set up were Toni's, a perfect mirror image. Every other student Shelby had ever trained took a few weeks to master the method enough to do it alone, unsupervised; Toni had gone from never even pipetting to proficient in the course of a few hours. As long as she could remember where everything was stored in the lab, she'd be working on her own in no time.

"What?" Nora asked, slipping down to look at the photo. "Is she terrible?"

"No." Shelby angled the monitor slightly to ease the glare. "She's wonderful."

"Looks like you found your undergrad."

"She's not _my_ undergrad. She doesn't belong to me. And this is only one time. It could be a fluke."

"Well, congrats. In two days, you’ll have four hands."

"I don't know if we can do this before the end of term, four hands or not."

"Maybe Toni will buy you more coffee."

+o+o

When Toni came in the next morning to see her results, she sat down on Shelby's desk, iPad held loosely under her arm.

“That bad?” Toni asked.

Shelby showed her the print out of the photo, the rows carefully labelled with their names.

“So I’m at least as good as you.”

Shelby laughed at her teasing arrogance. "Beginner's luck. Let's see if you can do it again."

Then Shelby actually forgot she’d ever doubted her when Toni duplicated her virtuoso performance twice more, and Shelby finally accepted it wasn't beginner's luck; Toni really was decent at PCR. It was then she came to terms with the fact that Toni was going to be part of her daily life. Shelby did what she could to make Toni comfortable in the lab, giving her a stretch of bench space across from her own, so that by ducking or leaning she could see Toni through the shelving. Often racks or tubes or binders packed with notes half obscured the girl’s face, but it was enough.

Toni kept a clean bench, doing little to make the area her own aside from labeling one or two of the racks with her name to prevent them being stolen by feckless and unscrupulous technicians from neighboring labs. Without much fuss she fell into the ebb and flow of daily experiments, and Shelby grew accustomed to seeing her there most days as she began working her way through the preliminary testing; either gloved up in nitrile, pipetting steadily or waiting with her Converse balanced on the edge of the bench as she read for her classes. Toni Shalifoe was there to stay, whatever that was supposed to mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with me and continuing to read. I'm grateful for your very kind kudos and comments.


	9. Chapter 9

Shelby stared listlessly at her computer screen, not wanting to work or think or really do anything but curl into a tiny ball and leave the planet Earth completely. Moving her cursor from one side of the window to the other, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. There was no noise in the lab aside from the sedate hum of the freezers and refrigerators so the strident vibration of her phone on the desk beside her startled her so much she almost overturned the cup of pens next to her mouse. She shifted as she gazed down into her phone feeling her heart drop as a Colgate white smile beamed up at her the letters across his forehead spelling out _Daddy_.

“Hi, Daddy,” Shelby said, forcing some enthusiasm into her greeting that she certainly did not feel.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” her father replied. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No. No! I’m just at work.” Cussing silently, Shelby scrambled, wracking her brain for a reason she was at work and not at church at 11am on a Sunday.

“Aw, look at you my little busy bee. I know you’ve never been a morning person, but I’m proud you’re finally getting to the early service. It’s a sign of a productive member of society.”

Shelby breathed a very quiet sigh of relief. “You got me. So much work so little time.”

“How is it up in the great white north?”

“Great. Everything I expected.” Shelby felt the muscle memory smile stretch across her face even though he couldn’t see her.

“Good, good. Now honey, I hope you’ll forgive me for getting straight to the point here—I’m sorry I don’t get to call and catch up with you more often, but you know how work is—your momma said she had a conversation with you last week and I wanted to reach out to follow up.”

Shelby suppressed the urge to scream; her confrontation with Jobeth was about to cross its three-week milestone. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Your momma and I act as a team. We are a united front. As it says in Ephesians, ‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.’”

“Yes, sir.”

“But it also says in Colossians, ‘Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.’ You’re not a kid anymore and I thought you deserved an explanation.”

Shelby pulled her phone away from her ear and glanced at the screen, suddenly not entirely convinced she _was_ talking to her father and that his body had not been possessed by an alien.

“You’re probably asking yourself, ‘Why didn’t Daddy come to me?’ Well, the explanation for that, sweetheart, is simple. Negotiating.”

“Negotiating," Shelby repeated.

“I don’t know this Daniel guy.”

Shelby shook her head slightly. “Okay…”

“I didn’t want him using your project as collateral for more money. We figured the less you were involved the more favorable terms we could get from Daniel and Vac Tech.”

 _Ah_. Nodding almost manically, Shelby saw it was all starting to make sense. Her parents had not only bamboozled her by interfering, but they’d kept her in the dark so they could make more money off it.

Her father went on, “I hope you see now why things had to happen the way they did.”

“No, Daddy. Right. I understand.” She did, all too well.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I know it’s a tough situation to be in, but your momma and I are very proud of you and looking forward to advancing this project through the pipeline.”

“Thanks.”

“I have to run now, but we love you!”

Shelby dropped her phone like a scalding rock, uncaring as it made a hideous sound as it bounced across the linoleum. Clasping both hands behind her neck, she did deep yoga breathing until she was positive she wasn’t going to burst into tears. She didn’t have the time or energy to be angry, to fight, to stand up for herself in righteous indignation. She stood up slowly, reserving all her mental fortitude for the testing still to be done.

+o+o

Shelby _almost_ got away with nobody realizing it was her birthday. She had too much to do and too little time as it was and the last thing she needed was the undergrads (and Nora, who might as well have been an undergrad for her helpfulness) trying to take her out and buy her drinks. Being an adult was incredibly boring sometimes. What happened to doing fun things that didn’t involve alcohol? She would have gotten away with it had it not been for Nora’s bizarre penchant for the Zodiac. The phone in the lab had been ringing insistently for about twenty seconds. Shelby, wearing gloves and deep in the middle of doing something, finally looked conspicuously over at Nora who sat happily at her desk ignoring everything.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Shelby asked.

“No,” Nora replied, turning the page of the article on multiple sclerosis she was reading.

Shelby proffered her gloved hand. “I’d grab it but I have gloves on.”

“Can’t. My horoscope says someone with bad intentions is going to try to contact me today.”

Shelby almost laughed, but recalled that Nora had a bit of a thing about phones anyway, and if she wanted to blame her reticence to pick up the receiver on her astrological sign then that was probably about as good of an excuse as any.

“I’m supposed to be conserving my energy for tomorrow.”

“Might be the dishwashers with the glassware.”

Nora’s eyes widened slightly like she hadn’t thought of that, and she grabbed at the phone to answer. The loud drone of the dial tone met Shelby’s ear signifying she had missed it.

“Why’re you reading horoscopes anyway?” Shelby asked, as Nora hung up the phone. “All that stuff is made up.”

The doctor pointed her pen at Shelby. “Most of the time it is, and then every once in a while…”

“It’s just coincidence.”

“But is it?”

“All right. Find mine then.”

“Your horoscope?”

Setting down her pipette and peeling off her gloves, Shelby sat down next to Nora. “Go on. I want to see what nonsense they have for me today.”

“What’s your sign?” Nora asked, starting to type into her search bar.

“Scorpio.”

“So you are a believer!” Then she paused, looking at Shelby critically. “When’s your birthday?”

Shelby winced, realizing she’d messed up.

“Shelby, was it your birthday and you didn’t tell us?”

“Not like I have time for celebrating right now.”

“When was it?” She turned back to her laptop as Shelby prevaricated. “You know it’s in the database and I will look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“Fifteenth,” Shelby muttered.

The fifteenth had passed the previous weekend.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nora asked.

Shelby laughed. “Some minor disaster happens anytime we try to go out. I just wanted to get this—” she waved her hand vaguely at her lab bench “done without any distractions.”

“Still wish you would have told me. I could have brought you…um, something, I guess.”

They were interrupted by the entrance of Toni and Martha. Toni was maybe a half-pace ahead of Martha, chin raised in agitation as though she was running away from whatever Martha was saying to her.

“Don’t you think it’s going to be really fucking awkward?” Toni asked.

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”

Toni turned on Martha, giving her a meaningful look. She continued walking toward her bay with a sigh, shrugging off her backpack and dropping it onto the floor next to her chair. She flopped down into it, face upturned to Martha when she followed her.

“What?” Toni asked, an edge of aggression in her voice.

“He’s just coming all that way and—”

“Marty, I barely know the guy. Sharing a couple of chromosomes with him doesn’t make us family.”

“I just thought you might—”

Toni shrugged, eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown. “No. I don’t. Like I’m doing my part, or whatever, but other than that I just want to be left alone.”

“Are we still going to the Otter Bar Saturday, then?”

Toni groaned. “No, Marty, not—”

“You promised!”

“I hate karaoke.”

“Then you shouldn’t have promised.” Martha crossed her arms over her chest. “Regan said she’d go with me if you wouldn’t.”

Toni’s expression transformed from angry confusion to shock. “ _That’s_ supposed to make me feel better about this?”

Martha huffed, clearly losing patience with her best friend. “You can say no.”

“Fine, it’s fine. Go off, I guess.”

“Regan is always happy to see you.”

Head bobbing in more of a twitch than a nod, Toni started pulling her jacket off. Martha hugged Toni’s head uncomfortably, Toni’s cheek smashed momentarily against the buttons on the front of her coat, before Martha released her and walked out toward the tunnel.

“Fucking blackmail…” Toni was grumbling in an undertone, as she rounded the end of the bench to approach Shelby and Nora.

“What was that about?” Nora asked.

“Nothing.” Toni started reaching for things on Shelby’s shelves.

“Are you and Martha going to karaoke?”

Toni turned, leaning back against the bench on her elbows. “Martha loves going but never actually gets up to sing by herself. She makes me go but I can’t carry a tune in a fucking bucket.”

Shelby hummed a few bars of “Mary had a Little Lamb” moving her hand in a small circle until Toni joined her with a roll of her eyes. She was a little shy and a little flat, but her notes were loud enough when she finally gave in.

“I think your singing voice is more mezzo than contralto,” Shelby commented. “Come up here instead of forcing it so low.”

“Yeah, not all of us sang for Miss Texas Teen,” Toni replied.

“I…” Shelby faltered, surprised. “How’d you know that?”

“YouTube.”

Behind them, there was a clatter from Nora’s keyboard, and a few seconds later an announcer rang out through her tinny laptop speakers.

“…introduce Miss Texas Southern State, Shelby Goodkind!”

Shelby watched as an image of her younger self in a turquoise dress graced the screen and walked across the stage, tiny in the shaky phone video. The video wasn’t high enough quality for Nora or Toni to see, but Shelby could remember her makeup and hair, the slight shimmer of the glitter in her bronzer.

“Uh, no!” Shelby exclaimed trying to reach for the laptop.

But the Shelby in the clip went on, undeterred, smiling first to the left and then to the right, and began to sing. Her voice rang out steady and confident, lovely and sweet, that was until Shelby managed to catch the edge of Nora’s laptop and snap it closed.

“That’s enough of that,” Shelby said with some finality.

“You have such a nice voice, Shelby,” Nora replied.

“It’s just…a little embarrassing now. Looking back on it.”

“So what time on Saturday?”

“What?”

“Not you, Toni.” She pushed Shelby to the side so she could see Toni where she still leaned against the bench. “What time?”

“You _want_ to come?”

“Shelby is a Scorpio.”

Toni cocked her head, half laughing in puzzlement. “What?”

“It’s Shelby’s birthday.” She pitched forward and added to Toni in a stage whisper, “I think we should put her in as a ringer.”

“It’s not my—Nora!” Shelby protested ineffectually.

“Seven?” Toni glanced up at Shelby. “Happy birthday, Texas.”

Shelby didn’t know why. She had no desire whatsoever to sing publicly ever again, but there was something about Toni calling her Texas. Why Texas? And all of a sudden she was saying yes when she knew, she _knew_ —no. No. That part of her was dead and buried.

+o+o

The venue was all the way over in Saint Anthony West and the bar where the weekly competition occurred was in a newly gentrified part of town. Shelby had finally given herself over to the fact that Minnesota was cold and that it was next to impossible to be simultaneously cute and warm, unless you were a Swedish model and coats and snow boots did nothing to diminish your Scandinavian good looks. The bar Martha led them into was dark and crowded, and the three of them pushed through the people until she waved excitedly at a small young woman seated in a corner. It was so dim Shelby couldn't see her very clearly until they were quite close. She stood up with a big smile and Martha hugged her.

"Marty!" she cried as she squeezed Martha.

Releasing Martha back onto terra firma, she turned to Shelby and Leah.

"Regan," she shouted over the noise, pointing to herself.

"This is Shelby and this is Leah," Martha introduced them. "Toni's friends!"

Regan was pretty. Handsome gray suit jacket, curves for days. The way she smirked at the way Martha said "friends" Shelby could see that she maybe wasn’t the only one who had a hard time making her peace with Toni. The three joined Regan at the table as Martha leaned over.

"Where's Toni?" she said.

"Late." Regan shrugged. "How about a round?

She took their orders and came back a few minutes later with beer for herself and Leah and vodka for Martha, purposefully situating herself beside Shelby. The Texan toyed with her glass of water, uncharacteristically nervous about the whole thing, compulsively glancing up toward the door.

"So Shelby," she murmured, close to her ear to be heard, "how do you know Toni?"

"I'm sort of her boss," Shelby admitted, trying to formulate a way to explain what she and Toni did to a potential layman.

"I'll be nice then. Martha tells me she does a lot of PCR."

"Are you in science?"

"Not at all! But the power of Wikipedia helps.”

Okay, so clever in addition to being pretty. "What do you do now?"

"I'm in communications. PR, that kind of thing.”

"Any company I would know?"

Regan grinned. "Probably not. It’s a small firm."

It was another half hour before their happy band finally rounded out the last of its number. An elbow nudged Martha’s shoulder, and Shelby looked up to find Toni with her hands still in the pockets of her usual Carhart jacket. She paused, taken aback, eyes flickering between Regan and Martha. Getting to her feet, Regan moved to hug Toni, but Toni just kind of froze, standing motionless while Regan embraced her, still aloof and unmoving when Regan let her go and sat back down.

“Does anybody need a drink?” Toni asked, and then walked off toward the bar before anyone could reply.

When Toni returned to the table, Shelby had started to feel the beginnings of something else entirely about Regan; the pleasant friendliness that she’d felt at meeting Regan evaporated. Instead, she found herself utterly focused on Toni and the troubled way she would look at Regan, and then at Martha, then her phone, then the floor. She ordered food, but then sat with right leg bouncing, completely unconcerned while Leah and Martha ate her fries. By the time the karaoke started, Regan had consumed half her burger, and Toni had barely said two words to anyone aside from laughing half-heartedly at a few jokes. Sure, maybe she hated karaoke, but there was something else wrong there as well.

“Okay, who’s going with who here?” Regan asked the table at large. “It’s duet night.”

“Have fun guys, but I’m out,” Leah said waving. “There are dying cats with better vocal stylings.”

Regan shook her head reprovingly but didn’t push it. “Have it your way. Shelby?”

Shelby shrugged, trying to go along with it. “No preference here. I’m happy to go with whoever.”

“Martha?”

“Same,” Martha replied.

Considering for a moment, Regan stood up and urged Shelby closer to Toni. “Why don't you go with Surly over here and I’ll go with Martha.”

Regan and Martha went off to peruse the song list while Shelby angled her head to catch Toni’s eye. Toni looked up at her, her face closed and unreadable.

“We don’t have to sing,” Shelby said to her privately.

Her forehead creased, attention wandering to where Regan and Martha stood a few yards away. “Whatever. You can pick the song.”

“Well, that’s not the right answer. I can’t bail if you don’t.”

With a little jerk of her head, Toni refocused on her as though she hadn’t noticed Shelby was there. “You heard me. Not in a fucking bucket.”

“Toni, you just need a little training is all.” Shelby straightened up, shoulders back to expand her lungs a bit. She indicated her sternum. “You got to come up here—”

Toni stood up, pushing away from the table and thrusting her hand into the inner pocket of her jacket and withdrawing twenty dollars in fives and ones. She threw them haphazardly on the table in a confetti of bills and walked toward the door. Shelby stared after her, bewildered. Over her shoulder, she heard Regan, then felt more than saw her brush past and follow Toni into the November night.

“Do you think we’re ever going to have a gathering where Toni doesn’t leave abruptly halfway through?” Shelby mused.

“That’s like a monkey’s paw wish,” Leah said. “It’ll come true, but only because we’re at Toni’s funeral or something.”

Martha heaved a sigh as she sat down next to Shelby, who gestured wordlessly at the exit with the flat of her hand.

“Miscalculation on my part,” Martha admitted.

“I’m sensing some history here,” said Leah before draining her drink.

“Regan is Toni’s ex. She’s always super nice but Toni—”

Shelby’s jaw fell open for a second, then catching herself she shut it with a click. “Toni’s a…a…”

“Lesbian?” Martha supplied helpfully, looking at her like she’d grown a second head.

“Like a hundred-footer,” Leah said with a laugh.

“A what?” Shelby asked.

“You can tell from a hundred feet. By looking at her.”

“I don’t…I mean—what? How?”

“It’s the shoes.”

Martha nodded. “And the walk.”

“And the fingernails,” Leah added.

Shelby mumbled her agreement as though she understood, when really she felt quite distinctly like she’d never understood anything less in her entire life. The emcee read out Martha’s name into the microphone, and she cast a forlorn look at the stage, partnerless since Regan had gone after Toni. Flustered and confused and feeling like the prospect of singing bad pop songs to a bar full of drunk patrons was less painful than marinating with her new knowledge in front of Leah and Martha, Shelby shot to her feet and beckoned for Martha to follow.

+o+o

The Monday was three days before Thanksgiving. Embroiled in some circuitous argument with Martha about whether or not orange juice should ever be served with ice, Nora argued only in screwdrivers while Martha seemed to think orange juice always required ice. To be honest, Shelby fell in the never category, but didn’t have the time to spare to throw her hat into the ring.

“Your family actually celebrates Thanksgiving?” Nora asked.

“Well, yeah,” Martha replied.

“I guess I thought the Leech Lake Band was moving away from that?”

Martha shrugged. “I know about the oppression of Native peoples by settlers of European descent. We’re not celebrating that. My sister calls it ‘Takesgiving.’”

That made Nora laugh, and she nodded approvingly.

"Every member gets a turkey and a pound of wild rice, though. So, it’s still a thing.”

“When are you headed home?”

“Wednesday! It will be nice to see my family.”

“Word. Rachel and I are flying back to New York tomorrow.”

For Shelby, the main result of it being Thanksgiving week was that everyone was torn between working with frantic abandon (trying to finish things before they travelled away for the holiday) and writing off the week completely, giving themselves over to pre-holiday sloth. Shelby fell somewhere in the middle, going through her normal routine, fielding an astonishing array of bribes and wheedles as people attempted to get her to do this thing or that thing while they were gone. All well and good if they weren’t also the same people she _knew_ were stealing her racks and filling up her biohazard bin without emptying it. She was in a state of high dudgeon by midday, swearing silently the next person who tried to beg something off her would be violently assaulted with a chemical spatula. When she felt the hand touch her shoulder in the hall she turned abruptly, battle cry readied, only to find it was Toni.

“Hey,” Toni said, taking a surprised step back.

She raised her eyebrows a millimeter or two, then she held out a muffin to Shelby with a little lift of her chin. Baffled yet again, Shelby took it.

“You didn’t get anything for your birthday,” Toni said. “So…um. Yeah. That’s for you.”

Well, at least it was blueberry and not chocolate; Shelby liked blueberry. She set it down on the table outside the door and followed Toni into the lab. It took her a few seconds to get the girl's attention, but when she did Toni set her backpack down and looked up expectantly. Lots of invasive questions about Regan and fingernails were lodged somewhere in her throat, but she swallowed all of them, centering herself on the work that lay ahead of them. She needed Toni to have any hope of finishing.

“What are your plans for the holiday?” Shelby queried.

“I’ll be here,” Toni replied. ‘You?”

“I’ll be here, too.”

“Not going home to Dallas?”

“Not for three days. Not with all this testing pending.”

Opening up the testing binder, Toni ran her finger down the list. “I think we can do it if I come in with you over the long weekend.”

“Toni, you don’t have to do that. You should go be with your family.”

Toni glanced up at her, index finger still planted on the page. “There’s no family to go to.”

“Oh. Then…none at all?”

“I was in the system a long time.” Adding at Shelby’s lack of comprehension, “Foster care.”

“I…I’m sorry, Toni.”

“GTW is supposed to be here next week. Let’s push through and get it done.”

Shelby was long accustomed to the company being referred to as "GTW" as though it didn’t contain her surname as well, but hearing Toni say the acronym gave her a sudden sense of propriety. It made her a hypocrite, not wanting to be defined by her involvement with the firm and yet benefit from the connection by counting on whoever came to the site visit to let it slide if she failed to come through.

“Yes,” Shelby agreed slowly.

“If we work through we’ll finish,” Toni said, flipping the binder closed.

"Are you sure?"

Smirking, Toni raised her eyebrows, finally breaking into a smile when Shelby breathed a sigh of relief.

+o+o

"What is it with Minnesotans and muffins?" Shelby asked Nora later.

"Muffins are delicious," Nora replied, not really paying attention.

"It's a strange gift."

"Maybe it's a Minnesotan thing."

"That's the second one I've got for no reason."

"Ooh, popular."

Shelby was far past the point where she rose to Nora's baiting, rolling her eyes before saying, "When are you leaving for home?"

"I'm leaving on a jet plane tomorrow night. God, I hope the Detroit airport isn't under two feet of snow like last year. I was trapped there for three days with Rachel. What are you doing?"

"Working most likely, why? Momma’s guilt tripped me for weeks, but I can’t go home with this deadline.”

"You should have orphan Thanksgiving."

Opening her mouth, Shelby realized she didn't have a good response to that because it conjured all kinds of guilty, awkward images in her head, especially when she thought of Toni’s unsentimental admission that she didn’t have a family. She cleared her throat, frowning.

"What?" Nora asked, looking over at Shelby. "I just meant you should see if the any of the undergrads are hanging around instead of going home."

"You mean like host something?" said Shelby uncertainly.

"Yeah, it sucks when you can't get home for whatever reason and you're stuck alone. It happened to me a couple of time when I was in med school."

Shelby scowled. Asking Toni was out of the question.


	10. Chapter 10

Thursday commenced just like any other day for Shelby. The snowy streetscape of Minneapolis the morning of Thanksgiving Day, however, was positively eerie. It was like driving through the set of an apocalypse movie, just miles of roads where she saw hardly anyone. Strangely, she saw more life entering the lab than she had outdoors, meeting a few of the other grad students who had stayed to work on projects and experiments, either unwilling or unable enjoy the holiday. Labs and hospitals, the two places that never slept. What she was not expecting at all was to find Toni, already embroiled in setting up a PCR. The thoughtfulness of it was diminished by the fact she looked like hell. Shelby would have bet Toni hadn't slept since she'd last seen her.

"Toni," Shelby said. "When did you get here?"

Trying and failing to stifle a yawn, Toni replied, “What? Why are you here?”

Shelby gently wrested the pipette from Toni’s grip. “It’s morning and I work here.”

“At four AM?”

With a lift of her eyebrows, she glanced at the wall clock for confirmation. She shakily pushed her hair out of her face.

“Are you okay?” Shelby asked.

“Yeah,” said Toni. “I couldn’t sleep. This made more sense than doomscrolling.”

“I’ll finish. Go home and get some rest, okay?”

“Um, yeah. There’s a plate there and two more in the freezer.”

When Toni hesitated Shelby just pointed at the door and said, “GFTO” which Toni evidently understood well enough because she nodded in surrender. Picking up her backpack and shrugging into her jacket, Toni left the lab. They were in the basement; they didn't have any windows, so it was certainly possible to lose track of what time it was but to be off by six hours? Shelby glanced doubtfully at the work Toni had done. It was all labelled. The tubes in the racks were in the right order. So despite the weirdness of Toni's Thanksgiving morning PCR run, Shelby found herself trusting the girl's skill. It put them slightly ahead, and every little bit helped.

Inspired by Toni's devotion, Shelby put in a full twelve hours. When she arrived back to her apartment that night she felt accomplished but weary, immediately changing into her nightclothes and eschewing food in favor of sleep so that she could get an early start the next morning. She was about to text Toni to ask when she'd be in the next day when she heard a distinct knock on her door. First of all, what the hell, because her building was secure. No one could get up to her floor without the key and second of all, what the hell, because all the people who knew where she lived were gone.

A second knock startled her even more and she approached the door slowly with the air of someone who suspected she was being visited by an axe murderer, creeping silently to the peephole to gaze through. All she could see was the screen of an iPad, like a kidnapper was about to try to ransom her lab equipment back to her.

_requesting entry to fort knox_

Lord, it was only Toni. Shelby opened the door to find Toni on the other side, holding out a rotisserie chicken, her amused gaze immediately raking over Shelby's attire.

“Toni,” Shelby spluttered. “What are you doing here?”

“Martha said you’d be here so I guess I thought…I dunno. I mean I can go.”

“No. No! I’m just surprised is all. How’d you get in?”

“Stealthily. Like a ninja.” Laughing, Toni shrugged. “Are you going to invite me in or…?”

“Oh!” Shelby swung the door open wider.

“Your neighbor’s wreath game is strong,” Toni told her, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at a very intense cornucopia wreath on the door opposite.

The chicken offering both impressed and confused her, because good for Toni for finding a supermarket that was open at nine at night on Thanksgiving Day but also because, why? Toni at least looked better, like she'd slept, or at a minimum had showered. Shelby took the chicken, letting Toni pass her into the apartment, and when she turned Toni was looking around like she’d just stepped into the Sistine Chapel. She kicked off her wet boots at the door, a Minnesotan peculiarity Shelby had adopted over the past months. Taking in the open expanse of Shelby's kitchen and lounge, Toni flattened her palms to the cold granite in the worktop. She whistled.

"Is this you coming for Thanksgiving?" Shelby asked, placing the sacrificed bird on the counter.

“Nice nightie,” said Toni making Shelby realize Toni was whistling at _her_ and not the apartment.

Rolling her eyes, Shelby crossed her arms over her chest. She went back into her bedroom to put something else on yet again, even though what she was wearing was more nightgown than negligee. When she emerged again in trousers and a button down, Toni had thrown her jacket over the back of the couch and was standing by her terrace door, gazing down at the frozen landscape below them. Beyond, the ruins of the old flourmill on the opposite bank straggled jaggedly against the Minneapolis skyline, a skeletal reminder of the industry that had once dominated North Loop. Shelby began to scour her cupboards for something to accompany the chicken, though that was probably because she was subconsciously trying to overcompensate for the fiasco with Martha’s cake and prove her culinary skills didn’t end at cups of tea. Her downfall was her general lack of groceries. Appalling really. After a while Toni came back into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, legs swinging. It was embarrassing but all she had was a single packet of instant mashed potatoes and macaroni cheese dinner.

“Yikes,” Toni said.

Shelby looked at her bare shelves. “I didn’t realize I was having company.”

“You know there’s a homeless shelter down on Franklin that’s serving dinner.”

Shelby looked at her, not sure whether she was supposed to laugh, be offended, or be ashamed.

“It’s pretty good actually. The couple of times I bounced through anyway.” She held her hand out for the potatoes, forestalling any other questions. “Let’s keep it traditional. The mac and cheese is too weird.”

Shelby put the kettle on to heat water to rehydrate them. Meanwhile, Toni tried to cut the chicken only to discover Shelby's knives were in a deplorable state. With pursed lips, Toni dramatically drew Shelby’s honing steel from the knife block and held it up with a slightly confused look on her face.

“So you got the fancy sharpening thing, but you don’t use it?” she asked.

Shelby shrugged and Toni flourished it slightly like she was about to use it as a rapier in a fencing match. Then she stropped the knife until she was satisfied with its keenness, testing the edge by brushing her thumb perpendicular to the blade. Her second try at cutting the chicken went much easier and they sat down to their makeshift meal as though it were fine fare.

“What are you thankful for?” Shelby asked.

“Is this more of your youth pastor shit?”

“It’s…we do it at home, usually.”

Toni pushed at her gummy potatoes with her fork. “I guess I’m thankful to be here now and that everything is okay-ish.”

“Worst Thanksgiving of your life?”

“Not by a fucking mile. What are you thankful for?”

“Undergrads that show up unannounced at my door step.”

“I couldn’t call ahead! I would have missed that fucking nightie.”

Shelby rolled her eyes dramatically, but Toni only laughed, settling back into the chicken. Toni could put away a surprising amount of food for someone so skinny and tried to be helpful, only leaving the dishes at Shelby's insistence. They stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a few seconds, Shelby utterly uncertain if she should invite Toni to stay longer or if she should send her packing as soon as possible. Finally, after a lot of equivocation, the hostess in Shelby won out and she went into the living room and sat down on the sofa in front of the gas fire.

“Nice fireplace,” Toni said as she followed.

When Toni joined her, she was holding a bottle of vodka produced out of seemingly nowhere.

“Where did you get that?” Shelby asked incredulously.

Toni just shook it with a tinkling of spirits, making distorted shafts of light dance on the walls. Shelby thought Toni would come to sit with her, but instead, she sat on the rug in front of the fire, her denim clad right knee hugged beneath her chin. She didn't even flinch when Shelby flipped the gas on, the blue flash of the flame ethereal against her skin. Toni turned slightly, settling her left elbow on the coffee table so she could twist the cork out of the vodka, which came with a tonal pop. Taking a drink of the liquor, she winced and held the bottle out to Shelby.

“You know I hate drinking,” Shelby said.

“Did I know that?” asked Toni, taking another sip.

Toni stood up stiffly, using the coffee table to prevent her from having to put too much weight on her left knee. She went back into the kitchen, got a juice glass out, and brought it to Shelby.

“Do you have a coaster?” Toni asked, the glass hovering two inches over the wood of the coffee table.

Shelby automatically groped for one on the shelf of the side table, setting it under the glass.

“I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You’re a _coaster_ person.”

Shelby frowned slightly as she drew both the glass and the coaster closer to herself. “I want to protect the wood.”

Toni very carefully poured about a double’s worth of vodka into the glass, wiping a stray drop from the mouth with her finger so it didn’t fall onto the table. She sat back down again on the floor with her left leg extended in front of her, drinking a bit more from the bottle.

“Coasters,” she muttered.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Shelby finally bit her lip and then reached for the glass. She took a swallow of it with a slight wince. Completely straight without so much as soda water or a twist of lime it was strong, then an almost creamy mouthfeel chased it, soothing the moonshiny bite of it with heat.

“So what’s Texas like?” Toni asked.

Shelby regarded her. “Texas is a big place.”

“Where you’re from?”

“Dallas?”

Toni shrugged. “Yeah, tell me about Dallas.”

“Hot in the summer, gets icy sometimes in the winter.”

Toni nodded slowly. “I’ve never been out of Minnesota.”

"What’s Leech Lake like?”

Grinning, Toni mimicked her. “Mosquitoes in the summer, snow in the winter.”

Shelby rolled her eyes, but then all of a sudden she downed her drink, watching as Toni refilled it with raised eyebrows.

“Easy there, Texas,” Toni joked. “I thought you hated drinking.”

Toni laid back onto the floor, right arm supporting her head as she lay there. She turned her head, eyes on Shelby. Shelby wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, pressing the other sweaty palm into her thigh. It had been an awful mistake, letting her stay.

“Scorpios. You’re into secrets, right?” Toni said.

“Are you and Nora conspiring against—”

“Tell me a secret.”

“Are we twelve?” Shelby almost laughed, more out of nerves than anything. “Why? You think I’m an asshole.”

Toni sat up slightly, balanced on her elbows. She started to say something, but then shook her head and lay back down again with a troubled expression. Rolling over, she pushed up off the floor, getting to her feet in one surprisingly smooth, swift movement. She stood there, hesitating, then bent down to retrieve the vodka.

“You say your prayers with that mouth?” Toni asked.

“You tell _me_ a secret,” Shelby said, the words coming out much more forcefully than she’d intended.

Somewhat disconcerted, Toni’s gaze fell, and she half-smiled with a noise of self-derision. She then came and sat on the coffee table diagonally from Shelby, almost close enough that her injured left knee touched Shelby’s uninjured one.

“Only if you go first,” Toni said. “None of those bullshit lightweight answers. Give me the real.”

Shelby sighed loudly, not sure what to say, so she drank more before saying, “I gave my brother a concussion when he was five.”

“That seems like lightweight bullshit to me.”

“I got arrested in high school.”

Toni laughed. “Okay, this I need more deets on.”

“I went through this phase where I was a hardcore vegan. Got rounded up with a bunch of animal rights protesters in front of a slaughterhouse.”

“That is the wokest white girl shit. Like I’d be surprised, but it’s you.” Toni took another drink, the warmth of the liquor starting to pink her cheeks.

“This isn’t confession. It’s your turn.”

“I...stole a car in high school.”

“What!”

“I gave it back. Eventually.”

Shelby pressed for further details but Toni only shook her head and pointed at Shelby.

“Two of my front teeth are fake.”

Toni choked. “You have dentures?!”

“Implants now, but I had this device I had to wear until I was twenty and my jaw quit growing. Had to cut everything up real small. No apples or jerky or anything I’d have to bite into.”

Face genuinely amazed for the first time, Tony leaned closer to her, looking at her teeth. “So you had like a retainer thing with two teeth on it?”

“Yep, beauty pageants and all.”

“Did you ever play pranks with those fangs of yours? You know, take them out, put them on top of your brother’s lasagna when he’s not looking?”

Shelby smiled. “No.”

“Could have been a dope signature move.” Toni nudged Shelby’s knee with her own. “Car crash.”

“What? Are we doing free association now?”

“My leg. Got crushed under the dash. I had a full ride scholarship…and when I woke up I was like this. If it wasn’t for Marty, I’d be an amputee.”

Shelby reached for her reflexively, their fingers tangling together briefly, before Toni withdrew, deliberately wrapping both hands around the bottle. Shelby gazed at her, torn between being taken aback by how simply Toni had just told her out of nowhere and contemplating a secret she wouldn't mind telling. Then, a secret she hadn’t known she’d been holding in came out instead.

“I hate science,” Shelby blurted.

“These are supposed to be secrets, not lies.”

“It’s not a lie.”

Toni studied her face curiously. “I don’t think you hate the science.”

“This is not the way I would have chosen.”

“You’re good at it, Shelby. You’ve made it your own.”

Laughing bitterly, Shelby shook her head. "I'm just defined by everybody else. I'm the daughter of GTW Pharma, the great Alan Dawes' last student, the Texan on Daniel's vaccine trial. I don’t know who I am.”

Toni offered her the vodka and Shelby took another swallow from the bottle to prevent herself from having to say anything else.

"Last secret,” Shelby said.

“What else is there to tell, Texas? You know about me and my sad childhood and my busted leg. There’s not much else for me to say.”

Shelby gripped the bottle, glancing out the window.

In the end, Toni’s voice was soft and a little strained, but maybe that was the vodka talking. “You’re beautiful.”

Shelby scoffed, but the way Toni looked at her, so calm and clear, etched the declaration into her until she felt the truth of it in the pit of her belly. Suddenly Shelby wasn't so sure it hadn't been a secret, something that no one knew until Toni gave her the words. She straightened up, not knowing what she could say in response, so she turned the vodka over and over in her left hand, the print on the bottle the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

“This is good vodka,” Shelby told her, unable to look her in the eye. “What is it?”

“Death’s Door,” Toni replied. “It’s organic.”

Toni's subtle edge of pretension gave Shelby the permission she needed to roll her eyes and turn the whole thing into a joke. She felt a little better when Toni smiled and reclaimed the vodka, cradling it in her arms like a first-born son.

+o+o

Shelby didn't know when they finally fell asleep. All she knew was that she woke up still atrociously drunk on the rug in all her clothes. Her left arm was pinned awkwardly between her torso and the floor. The inside of her mouth had vaguely taken on the texture of sandpaper and every joint ached stiffly from her unplanned nap on the floorboards. She couldn't even move, and after a few minutes of becoming more coherent, she was glad that she hadn't been able to, because while they slept she and Toni gravitated closer to one another. They weren't like, spooned up or anything; in fact there was only one spot where they even touched. Just under Shelby's left hip she could feel Toni's fingertips, pressing gently into her there, maintaining that single tenuous link like a bridge.

Toni seemed like a different person in repose, all her hard edges and walls and aggression worn away without those penetrating eyes to disrupt scrutiny. When she was asleep, she was just a girl, with an empty Death’s Door bottle clutched to her chest. It was the girl who had at some point in the night tucked her hand beneath Shelby to touch her bare skin. Still half drunk and half asleep, the only state where she could stop hating herself enough to _feel_.

She committed that moment to memory, from the curve of Toni's dipped chin to the glint of the firelight in her dark hair to the warmth of the girl's fingers against her. It wasn't until Shelby had her there, that she realized something had been missing, something important and intangible. She shivered, and not thinking anything of it, she nestled into the crook of Toni's elbow, seeking her body heat. Drifting back to sleep, Shelby dreamt they played a children's game, stacking their hands together, piling them up, trying to get her own hand on top.

+o+o

When Shelby woke the second time, she only had an extremely hazy recollection of most of the previous night. She had somehow been maneuvered to the sofa, wrapped around a pillow in the fetal position and a blanket tucked around her shoulders. Shelby blinked in surprise. She knew instinctually that Toni had left, and that she wasn't much the type to leave a note. Despite being miserably hungover, Shelby felt, not happy exactly, because hangovers and happiness were mutually exclusive, but maybe content, maybe not as sick and guilty as she should. Then she tried to move and all pleasant sensation left her body. Toni Shalifoe had just officially superseded Nora Reid as the bringer of hangovers. Shelby dragged herself off the sofa and went in search of one of those massive ibuprofens like it could possibly kill her raging headache.

Friday ended up being the first day Shelby skipped work since learning of the funding stipulations weeks previous. She learned early in her doctoral work the feast/famine activity structure most students favored simply did not work for her and she wasted time and reagents making stupid errors when she was tired. It was generally better to work two eight-hour shifts than one sixteen, because otherwise she was a zombie in a lab coat and about as dexterous. But there was no way in hell Shelby could suffer through eight hours of data analysis in her current state. Conventional wisdom held you were supposed to get up and get hydrated when fighting a hangover, but all Shelby wanted to do was be sick and lie in the dark.

She'd managed to shower and force down some water when Dot called her. Four times which wouldn't have mattered but her goddamn ringer was on and she couldn't turn the thing off without unlocking the screen. She tried but one glance at the God forsaken contraption confirmed her hunch she couldn't look down at Dot's smiling (and bright, so bright!) face without a bolt of pain. Crouched on the sofa with her face covered, Shelby declined the first three attempts, finally answering on the fourth just so she could stop the light from exploding behind her eyes.

"Someone better be dying," Shelby rasped.

"Sounds like it’s you," Dot replied. "Are you sick?"

"I haven’t been yet.”

There was a long pause that Shelby almost began to hope meant the connection had been severed when she heard Dot's voice again.

"You're not in college anymore, you know," Dot admonished.

"Thank you. That’s become incredibly obvious to me this morning.”

"Is it worse than that time we went to Mexico?”

Shelby just groaned, and she sighed sympathetically.

"So why are you calling?" Shelby said. "You've interrupted my misery."

"Fatin and I are the official GTW reps coming next week," Dot informed her. "Quinn Miller from R and D will also be joining us and there's some guy called Kurt Hamilton from Vac Tech, but I'm running the show."

"I'm not the lead, Dot. If Daddy’s forcing you to play site coordinator you should be telling Daniel not me."

"I didn't say you were. They’re sending our itinerary to Daniel Monday, it's just that I'm booked to a Friday flight, but I could stay through the weekend to visit if you're not going to be all weird and hungover about it."

In spite of her hangover, Shelby softened at the prospect of seeing her again for a few days. Dot being part of the official team helped as well, as little as she wished to admit it; she wouldn't be massively displeased if she delivered less data than had been demanded in the contract.

"I don't have to," Dot said into the silence, making Shelby realize she hadn't answered.

"No, stay," Shelby whispered quickly. "Can you call again when I'm not dying, please?"

Shelby laid her phone deliberately on the coffee table, rolling into a ball where she stayed for several more hours.


	11. Chapter 11

By the next morning, Shelby had recovered somewhat. She buried the vodka bottle in her recycling and folded the blanket neatly on the coffee table. It smelled like a bit like Toni, Shelby noted, when she picked it up, and she frowned a few minutes later because she wasn't sure when she'd acquired that piece of knowledge. Around eight, Shelby had a text message waiting for her.

_meet in lab at ten?_

Shelby thought there might be a little awkwardness since their drunk cuddle, but Toni set straight to work, not mentioning anything about it. Maybe she’d been so drunk she didn’t remember. Shelby and Toni spent the next two days up to their eyeballs in the EBV strain amplification, more or less just the two of them in the lab. They operated as a single unit, Toni ratcheting through hundreds of individual PCR reactions while Shelby sized them and extracted them to be submitted for sequencing. The work was repetitive and boring, but also required an incredible amount of attention to detail; a terrible combination. They both made mistakes as the days wore on, necessitating repeats of some samples.

In spite of the fact that they were almost manically busy, they would encounter periods of “hurry up and wait.” Pockets of time when they would be at a loss for something to do, waiting for a gel to set or a reaction to finish incubating. During those lulls, Toni started to do things with Shelby, not that they _always_ spent their downtime together. Shelby still had a presentation to put together for meeting with GTW and a mountain of data waiting to be analyzed, which she'd been neglecting. During one of those moments on Sunday, Shelby went to Toni to ask which SIDs needed to be repeated and discovered her playing a game alone as she scrunched herself into her chair, sitting weirdly crosslegged in it.

"What are you playing?" Shelby asked, the DNA helix catching her eye.

“Plague.”

“What?”

“The point is you make a virus and try to destroy the world.”

Shelby laughed. “Isn’t that like, the opposite of this entire operation?”

“It’s only kind of bioterrorism.”

“Sounds fun.”

Toni held the iPad out so that Shelby could see over her shoulder, and when Shelby rolled her eyes and sat down, Toni started a new game. The first step was choosing from a long list of microorganisms. Shelby, being an EBV researcher, naturally opted to use a virus rather than a bacteria or a fungus. After some consideration, Toni then deployed the virus to Canada.

“Do you have some beef with Canada?” Shelby asked.

“No, Canadians are cool. They’re funny.”

“Why?”

“They tell Americans shit like Tim Horton is their Prime Minister.”

Toni pointed to a tiny counter in the corner of the screen that told them how many people their virus had infected. The number was increasing, and it was spreading over the map of the world, turning the green countries red. A little dialogue box popped up, allowing them to make a decision regarding how the virus would mutate. Shelby'd sat through enough excruciating monologues from Fatin to know rapid transmission was the key to obtaining ubiquitous infection.

“Water or air?” Toni asked her.

“Air.” Losing patience, she tapped the glass just below coughing as a symptom.

Soon Shelby had practically stolen the iPad from Toni altogether, grumbling about a group of Japanese scientists that were trying to come up with a cure. Toni just relinquished her grip on the tablet, returning to her next set of reactions since her reagents had finally finished thawing. Shelby barely even noticed when she left, blinking up into Toni's amused smile when she eventually lost the game by failing to kill all of humanity fifteen minutes later.

"Take this thing back," Shelby growled, sliding the iPad onto the desk. "That game is addictive."

And yet it didn't take much effort on Toni's part to convince Shelby to play twice more with her when they decided to quit for the day, their heads bent close together over the screen, even though they were both exhausted and had many hours of work to go.

+o+o

Although Nora worked literally right beside her, parts of her project were completely separate from Shelby's, focusing on EBV's links to autoimmune disease rather than mono. In addition to the mix of undergrads who came to clinic to have their blood drawn every two weeks, there were patients with the neurodegenerative disease multiple sclerosis that participated in Nora's study. And as such, Nora's funding was also somewhat separate, and though benefiting from the money GTW was feeding the group for the vaccine she was running into difficulties paying her portion of the bills, so to speak.

The answer to the problem was usually fundraising of some kind, and after months of unsuccessfully applying for government grants she finally resigned herself to the prospect of courting private donations. Her capitulation, by chance, happened to coincide with the annual Minnesota Medical Foundation holiday dinner. If a researcher could get a spot presenting at the dinner it was a chance at wooing potential donors. The first Monday in December, Shelby was about scared out of her skin when Nora leapt out of her chair and whooped joyously as the top of her lungs.

The sudden movement startled even Toni who was across the lab, although rather than Shelby's unseemly squeak, her surprise registered with a foulmouthed, “What the fuck, Nora?”

"Nora," Shelby said carefully. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I got it," Nora cried, jumping up in the air.

Shelby had only ever seen that kind of delight accompanying shouts of "I got it" in reference to people's menstrual cycles, and it didn't seem like Nora had worked that out based on her email.

"What did you get exactly?" Shelby said, her heart rate returning to normal.

"A spot at the MMF dinner! I might actually get some money!"

Nora grinned like an idiot, holding up her hand for Shelby to give her a high five. Eyeing Nora's raised hand doubtfully, she settled for giving her an awkward hug. Toni, however, came up behind Shelby and didn't leave Nora hanging, giving her a high five that resulted in a satisfying smack.

"Nice high five, Shalifoe!" said Nora with an enthusiastic nod.

Toni inclined her head modestly, shrugging blithely at Shelby's amused glance. Then just as quickly, all the color drained from Nora's face.

"Oh, shit," she whispered.

"Wait, I thought this was good news?" Shelby said, bewildered.

"I have to give a fucking speech. A speech in front of four hundred people."

Nora slumped boneless back into her chair, gazing helplessly up at Shelby with a pained expression.

“I believe she has come over with the vapors,” Toni pronounced, imitating Shelby’s accent.

Shelby glanced at her with a quelling narrowing of her eyes, but Toni leaned over the bench.

“Quickly, Miss Goodkind! Fetch the smelling salts!”

Nora either hadn't heard or didn't care about Toni’s rendition of Southern Belle™, instead lurching up and grabbing Shelby's wrist.

"You," Nora said. "You speak."

"Yes," Shelby replied slowly, as to someone very dim-witted.

“You could do an interpretive dance,” Toni cut in.

"That journal Science has a contest every year for people who interpretive dance to their research," Shelby said, riffing off Toni, and then waved apologetically to Nora who looked at her like she'd gone completely mad.

"You could give my speech," Nora said, looking like she was gaining zest for the idea.

"Oh, no," Shelby protested. "Absolutely not."

"You're a great speaker."

"I am not giving your presentation. This is your work. People will be looking to you to present it."

"Please, Shelby. I'm going to fall apart and ruin it."

"Fine—"

"Oh, Shelby thank—"

"No, no. I will help you practice. I have some slides you can start with.”

"They don't teach you these things in med school!"

Toni pointed to herself out of nowhere, making Shelby smile again. “Yeah, I’ll help, too, Nora.”

Nora blanched and, very reluctantly, agreed.

+o+o

Shelby and Toni's mad sprint came to an abrupt finish Wednesday, just in time for Shelby to fetch Dot. Shelby held out her hand, waiting to be given the next plate to put into the thermal cycler but Toni just sat back in her chair with her boots up. That was it, they were done. There weren't any more to do. The much more complicated sequencing and neutralizing antibody projects loomed on the horizon, which would be difficult and time consuming, but Toni deserved a break for the months of effort she'd put in.

“Go,” Shelby urged. “Sleep. Study. Hang out with Martha.”

“See you tomorrow?” Toni asked.

“Of course.”

The Minneapolis-Saint Paul Airport or MSP as it was known to the Federal Aviation Administration was well to the south of Minneapolis, nestled in a suburb where it would peeve fewer of the locals with its flight patterns. It was also fortunately one of the hubs for a major airline and a number of direct flights went between Dallas-Fort Worth and MSP daily. It was a fairly short trip all things considered, even with being crammed cheek by jowl in an aluminum tube with several hundred strangers. Not that the GTW team would be doing anything so banal as being placed in economy. They were on GTW Pharma's tab, after all, and could have paid the fare even if they weren't.

Shelby waited on the baggage claim level, lazily reading an article on antibodies below the sliding doors that led from the main terminal. There was a Starbucks there manned by a surly looking barista as well as a play area for children. Disgruntled families were making their ways back from the holiday, brow beaten parents, runaway toddlers, and inconsolable screaming infants filed past her. Men in sharp suits met colleagues. The occasional scruffy student would go by on their way to public transit. Airports were one of Shelby's favorite places; watching others come and go.

"You weren’t kidding," a familiar voice said nearby. “It is cold here.”

"Why would I joke about that?" Shelby said, putting the paper down.

Dot was easily carrying her small bag while Fatin struggled with a much larger suitcase. Of course, it was the pair of them. No, David wouldn’t have sent Wally, or better, an actual licensing or regulatory lawyer, because that would have made too much sense. Much better to waste Dot’s time by dispatching her instead. She was all at once angry and pleased. Despite the circumstances, it was so good to see her old friend, casual and grinning like a fool. Shelby hugged her and Dot hugged back unexpectedly tight. Starting to feel positively emotional, Shelby hastily hugged Fatin as well so she didn't burst into tears at the familiar smell of Dot’s hair or something else too sentimental for the occasion.

"Shelby," Fatin beamed.

"It's been way too long guys," said Shelby. "Did you both have a good trip?”

"Can't complain."

Shelby turned back to Dot. “Where’s Quinn?”

“He’s coming up tonight. You know how anxious he gets.”

"I’m surprised Daddy didn’t come with you. Did you have to have him surgically removed?"

"Oh my God, he has been so far up my ass it has been unreal. He did send you this though." Dot held up her middle finger, and Shelby started to laugh. “Just a nice little fuck you.”

"I’m sorry, Dottie.”

"Not your fault! I don't know about Fatin, but I'm exhausted. Where's your car?"

"You’re lucky my arm’s not still broken." Shelby touched her left arm reflexively. “No chance of me operating a car like that.”

"Still rocking the stick shift, huh?”

“I mean, once you go stick you don’t go back,” Fatin said reasonably.

Dot whipped out a very heavy-duty looking parka from her bag, which sported an Antarctic Expedition seal on the sleeve and a fur ruff.

"You came outfitted," Shelby said, mildly surprised.

"After months of listening to you whine like a drama queen I reckoned I ought to be prepared."

+o+o

Dot and Fatin were being quartered in the University Hotel. The Thursday meetings began with Shelby waiting in the lobby to walk them to clinic. It was her single concession to Daniel because she knew two of the three parties she was waiting for: Dot, Fatin, and whatever the hell the Vac Tech rep's name was again. The airport had just been an unexpected bonus.

Shelby was not particularly looking forward the meeting itself because Daniel arranged it in the most informal way possible, in the fashion of a general round table featuring the entire clinic staff, lawyers and patent agents from the university, Dot and Fatin, the Vac Tech guy, and of course, Shelby, Nora, and Toni. The specific topic meetings would occur the next day. Dot could start obtaining approvals for the trial as well as a financial agreement with Daniel's departmental leash holders. On the lab side, Shelby hoped she'd have at least a few hours with Quinn to discuss the experimental design. His input could save her a great deal of time, but then she might well lose him to the patent agents.

Apparently, the hotel had been recently renovated but it still wasn't a four-star establishment. Its main attraction was its proximity to the other university buildings, necessitating only a short bolt from the door of the Starbucks to the lower level which led to the lab. The lobby of the place was pleasant enough though, and Shelby and Fatin were seated beside the fireplace, which for some reason was at full roar despite the fact the lobby was already heated with forced air. Their discussion on that very topic was interrupted by the appearance of a fellow with a paunch and a tan that was rather more orange than brown.

"Hi, are you with the Faber lab?" the man asked.

The look on Fatin's face should have won her an award for most dismayed.

"Yes, that would be us," Shelby replied, elbowing Fatin discreetly in the ribs. "I'm Shelby Goodkind and this is Fatin Jadmani. I’m part of the lab staff."

"I'm Kurt Hamilton, senior vice president of Vac Tech. Most of my friends just call me Ham.”

Fatin burst out in a sudden coughing fit, and Shelby was left to continue alone. "Ham. Right."

"I like the sound of it even more when you say it."

Shelby glanced at Fatin, who was obviously fighting to maintain a neutral expression as Kurt smiled at her smarmily.

“So, Ham,” Fatin said. “Have you ever been to Turkey? Or Hungary?”

Searching desperately, Shelby spotted Quinn popping out of an elevator. She jumped to her feet and quickly crossed the parquet floor, snatching Quinn by the cuff of his peacoat. Only feeling slightly guilty she shoved him into the path of "Ham" and motioned sternly for Fatin to come away before she dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles.

"What the hell are you two doing?" said Dot, recently emerged from an elevator herself.

"Trying to keep Sir-Laughs-A-Lot from offending the senior vice president of Vac Tech," Shelby hissed.

"He said to call him Ham," Fatin said to Dot, with a meaningful look.

"At this rate, Dottie should have brought Andrew.”

"Hey! I don’t care what you say, I am better at my job than Andrew.”

Dot laughed, then she noticed poor Quinn. "Come on, let's go rescue him. From the sound the phone interview Wally had with Hamilton he was not impressed.”

It turned out if anyone needed rescuing it was Kurt from Quinn, so with a glare at Fatin and a bright if forced smile for everyone else, they moved into the tunnel system. Daniel and Toni were waiting in the conference room when their mixed party arrived. Shelby cast Toni a confused little glance, but Toni just gave her a big exaggerated shrug and pointed at Daniel. Bouncing up from the table, Daniel greeted them all while Toni remained seated, smirking when Shelby glanced over and mouthed, “Kill me.”

"Hello, Shelby," Daniel said amicably. "And…you are?”

"Daniel, this is Dot Campbell," Shelby said, pressing her hand between Dot’s shoulder blades to angle her a little more prominently to Daniel. “She’s a lawyer with GTW.”

For the moment, they were business colleagues, not friends, though she and Dot had never been on opposite sides of a negotiation before. That element was new, and yet somehow not unfamiliar; they hadn’t always been friends after all. Shelby left Dot chatting to Daniel, taking a seat beside Toni with a little sigh. Toni smiled, sliding a cup of coffee across the table to her.

"Thanks, you don't know how much I need this," Shelby said, picking the cup up. “Why are you here so early?”

“Daniel told me to be here at eight,” Toni said. “So, I got here at eight.”

Shelby took a long drink of the coffee. “Seriously, Toni. Thank you.”

“Going that bad?” Toni asked, surveying the room.

Martha waved as she came in, taking a seat on the other side of Toni. “I told you it was eight-thirty.”

“This shit seemed important! Daniel told me eight!”

After a bit Dot sat down as well and Shelby introduced Martha and Toni to her.

"Dot, this is Martha a student from the clinic," Shelby said, leaving Toni to second, "and this is my undergrad, Toni Shalifoe. Toni has been spectacular. And Toni this is one of my oldest and closest friends, Dot Campbell.”

She didn’t know why she’d been so careful to introduce Dot as a business colleague to Daniel, and then threw caution to the wind, calling a spade a spade to Toni. Dot was wonderful, shaking hands with both of them, and quickly got caught up talking. Shelby watched, pleased, until Nora said from over her shoulder:

"I thought she wasn't _your_ undergrad."

+o+o

The meeting went really well, if one discounted Kurt trying to charm Shelby at every possible interlude, in particular over lunch, which amused Dot and Fatin immensely, both seeming to delight in her suffering. Shelby triumphantly presented the data to a surprised Quinn and an attentive Dot, who didn't know enough about Shelby's work to cotton on to the fact she'd essentially been working double time with Toni since Daniel had broken the news. The nurses described their preparations for the clinic. Daniel said his piece, ending in a strained joke about singing “Texas, Our Texas” which none of the Minnesotans understood (with the apparent exception of Martha who actually hummed a few bars like she knew what the hell was going on).

But then there was Nora, who Daniel called on out of the blue after Quinn haltingly talked a bit about the vaccine formulations and which adjuvant they thought would be most effective. Nora froze, having not been prepared to say anything and promptly had her own brand of public speaking meltdown in which she forgot her own name and generally how to string words together in sentences. Extemporaneous blurbs about her research were not supposed to be outside her skill range. Shelby had only been half paying attention because she knew just as much about GTW's proprietary adjuvants as Quinn did, instead allowing herself to be distracted by notes Fatin was writing her that featured cartoons of Shelby and Kurt in various stages of wedlock.

Suddenly, she was drawn back to the moment by Toni's hand gently squeezing her knee, and she glanced up at Nora's stricken face. She scrambled, trying to think of something to say about Nora's work when another voice cut through the tension as bright and easy as a carbon steel knife.

"Doctor Reid and I are working closely with Shelby on this project," Toni said. "We are looking forward to sharing more data about autoimmune disease with you when you visit again in January.”

Shelby stared in disbelief as Toni smiled at the assembled company.

"Thank you, Antonia," Daniel said.

That was of course when Nora found her voice again and she spluttered in surprise, "Antonia?!"

Toni shrugged. God, with a name like Antonia no wonder she went by the much shorter expedient of Toni. The last person to speak was Kurt, and his presentation came off as nine-tenths motivational speech about the importance of biotechnology and had almost nothing to do with the actual specifics for the vaccine trial. Just as Shelby had predicted months earlier, Vac Tech's only helpful contribution to the schema was going to be the patent itself. Once Kurt had finished his bit, Shelby quickly escaped to a side room to avoid being cornered.

"Did you see me?" whispered a mortified Nora.

"Which part exactly?" Shelby replied.

"Where I had to be saved from humiliation by Toni. And who knew her name was Antonia?"

"Martha, probably."

"This is why I cannot give this speech at the MMF dinner. Shelby you have to help me, I'm going to be a wre—"

Just then Dot, Fatin, and the aforementioned Antonia found them skulking in what was essentially a large cabinet more than a room.

"Hiding from your boyfriend?" Dot teased.

Fatin held up the drawing she'd made of Kurt and Shelby spawning an army of children. Dot nodded approvingly, adding a little heart between them.

"That rep is into you, Shelby," Nora said.

"Ugh," Shelby groaned. "He's repulsive.”

"Just Shelby's type in college," Dot interjected.

Shelby rolled her eyes. "Do you really want to open up that Pandora’s Box, Dottie?”

“Ooh, backstory,” Fatin said, laughing.

Toni hung back, slightly to the side, clearly feeling odd man out with the others all in suits and she just in her Carhart and the best pair of jeans she owned. Lifting her hand a little, she caught Shelby’s eye and beckoned her over.

“I just wanted to let you know I was headed out,” Toni said.

“Okay,” replied Shelby, nodding. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Toni shrugged. “Yeah, it was nothing. See you tomorrow I guess?”

“Yeah.”

She lingered for a moment, looking up into Shelby’s eyes.

Eyeing Shelby clinically, Fatin frowned and whispered to Nora, “Who is that?”

Nora didn't get the chance to reply before Toni waved goodbye and left the three of them in the cupboard, Fatin’s gaze following her until the door shut again.

Shelby turned to the rest of them. “I'll go get our coats. I don’t want Dorothy here turning into a Dot-sicle."

+o+o

That night Dot, Fatin, and Shelby went to dinner at a place downtown by the name of Haute Dish. The bulk of the pun was lost on the others until Shelby explained that "hotdishes" were casserole things made by Midwesterners, though what was actually in them varied widely depending upon whom was asked. Martha favored one that involved tater tots and wild rice. The whole business confused Shelby a bit but she also came from a state with a thousand ways to cook a dead cow, so she didn't much judge on cuisine. The interior of the restaurant was long and narrow, almost uncomfortably dark. They were situated along one wall just beside an arch in paneled walnut.

"How's your other half?" Shelby inquired shortly after their drinks arrived.

“Mateo?” Dot said.

“Are you dating anyone else?”

“Oh, he’s good. He’s moving more into consulting telehealth at the moment.”

“So when is he going to finally propose?” Fatin asked.

Dot choked. “Um, he’d have tried already if he wasn’t so set on having a ring.”

“Really? For real?”

“I don’t care about any of that shit. Like, damn, let’s go to Hawaii with that money.”

Fatin grinned, leaning into it. “You don’t need a man’s sign of ownership on you. Fuck the patriarchy!”

Laughing, Dot nodded. “Fuck the patriarchy.”

“Ooh, Shelby. This will interest you. Little miss United Nations dumped Andrew’s ass last week.”

Shelby blinked, surprised to feel, sorry for Andrew? A small pang of pity resonated in her at the news.

“He fucking _cried_ on our conference call,” Fatin went on.

“That’s too bad for him,” Shelby replied. “She looked like quite the catch.”

Angling her head doubtfully, Fatin studied her face for a few seconds, then smiled. “Why are you so nice? Dottie, why is she so nice?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Dot said. “Andrew has been a dick since we were in middle school.”

Their conversation wandered from mutual friends to Shelby's social life (or lack thereof) to Dot's adventures hunting for a new apartment in Dallas. Fatin related a few stories about cases she'd worked on and Shelby told anecdotes about Nora and Martha. They had progressed to dessert by the time Fatin shifted in her chair and fixed Shelby with a serious look; stalling her in the middle of a five minute long rhapsody about how splendid Toni had been through the strain typing.

"So," Fatin began, "about Toni."

"What about her?" Shelby replied.

"I'm just happy to see you've made friends,” Dot interjected.

"You know what’s funny about that? I think Toni and I hated each other when we met."

"Shelby, name one person you have _ever_ really hated.”

Shelby considered for a moment. “Beth Johnson when we were at UTD.”

Dot’s eyes widened in memory. “Oh my God, I forgot about her. She was such a bitch.”

“Anyway,” Fatin said, drawing them back on topic. “Toni.”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“Just…be careful there, okay?”

“I…” Pausing, Shelby regarded her with not a little confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, here we go,” said Dot. “She’s going to psychoanalyze you now.”

“I’m not!” Fatin protested. “I’m just giving you a well-intentioned heads up. I think she likes you.”

Shelby shook her head slightly. “Yeah, I just said we were getting along better.”

"No, Shelby. I think she _likes_ you." Fatin jabbed her fork in Shelby's direction.

Shelby frowned. "You mean…”

“I do. I think she likes you."

"I think you've had too many gins."

"She brought you coffee this morning!”

"It's a joke because I kept having accidents around her."

"And she just happens to know what you like and how you…take it?"

Folding her hands over her knee, Fatin arched an eyebrow to emphasize her point. Fatin and her Goddamn double entendres. Shelby’s jaw tightened, and she cut a single, sharp probing glance at Dot. If there was anything Shelby loved about Dot it was that she was not subtle. She was honest and loving and forthright and if there was something you needed to hear, she’d say it. But she looked just as surprised as Shelby, forearm braced against the table as she squinted at Fatin with her forehead creased.

“Oh, come on,” Fatin continued. “She’s totally gay, am I right?”

“Not sure what that has to do with anything,” Shelby said carefully.

With a cough, Dot re-entered the world of the living, saying, “I don’t know what Shelby is supposed to do with this information.”

“Maybe, let her down easy?” Fatin shrugged. “I don’t know either, I just thought you should know.”

Swallowing and trying to control her breathing, Shelby stared down at her plate. It was just like stage fright. Just like presenting. She could concentrate, force her heart rate to slow. It would be okay. She’d act. She would get through. For a second, Shelby's mouth fell open and then she burst out laughing. It _was_ hilarious, wasn’t it? It was hilarious because if Toni was anything she was not transparent, not the kind of girl who got sussed out in like, a day by Fatin. Toni played everything so close to the chest it was a wonder anyone knew she was holding any cards at all. So to consider, even for a moment, that Fatin reckoned Toni had a pair of queens for her was nothing if not hilarious.

"Right, Fatin," Shelby said. "Toni Shalifoe wants to lesbian…sex me or whatever."

Dot gazed up at the embossed tin ceiling. “If you’re both women…isn’t the ‘lesbian’ implied?”

"I'm just trying to help," Fatin replied coolly.

"Well, then you should stop," Dot replied.

Fatin sighed. "Shelby, I know she's your friend, so be careful, okay?"

Whatever. It was all completely ridiculous. Fatin’s overactive imagination didn’t make her any less wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really pleased to see this fan base taking off. I try not to read other fics while I'm writing, but I know there are some good ones out there. If you haven't already, go out there and give your favourite authors some love. I know they'd love to hear from you.


	12. Chapter 12

_What did you tell her?_

The text Shelby sent Dot that night was angry. Desperate. Imploring. _What did you tell her?_

Dot’s reply took a few minutes and Shelby spent every one beside herself gazing out her terrace door. _Nothing. Why would I do that?_ And then a little later, a second text. _Are you okay? Do you want to talk?_

_No._

She didn’t specify if it was “no” she didn’t want to talk or “no” she wasn’t fucking okay.

She couldn’t. Not after burying the years of fear and shame that had come in the wake of Becca Gilroy.

+o+o

Shelby was standing in the clinic waiting to claim Quinn from the patent agents, when she met Nora. The event in itself would have been unspectacular, but as Nora rounded the corner, Shelby dove behind a divider and ducked trying to prevent herself from being seen.

"Just me, Shelby," Nora called.

"For Christ's sake, I thought it was Hamilton," Shelby grumbled, straightening up again.

"Still? That man is persistent."

"I've been hiding from him all morning."

"Fatin seemed to think it was pretty funny."

"She’s lost her damn mind.”

Nora glanced at the muscle standing out in Shelby’s jaw. "We’ve had ‘Christ,’ ‘Damn,’ and whatever this is. Okay, do you want to elaborate?"

"No, because it's insane."

"This is me you're talking to. There is no such thing as crazy."

Shelby quickly swept the clinic for eavesdroppers before wringing her hands. She hesitated, then completely lost her nerve, scurrying back a few steps looking positively murderous.

“You’re a good communicator,” Nora said sarcastically. “Wait. This isn’t about…Toni is it?”

Despite Shelby’s normally excellent poker face, the mention of Toni’s name surprised her so much she flinched, as good as an assent.

“I think I see what’s happening here.” Nora sighed, clearly having not forgotten Shelby still needed a few sessions of cult deprogramming. “Where did Fatin get that idea?”

“You tell me.”

"I don't know. Maybe she has that sonar thing that gay people have."

"She’s an epidemiologist, not a Navy sub."

"Um, sonar…echo location…no, that's bats…uh…the thing where you can tell if people are gay or not."

Shelby shook her head, giving her an exasperated shrug.

“Gaydar!” Nora clicked her fingers with a grin. "Yeah, that thing."

"You haven’t said anything to give Fatin the wrong impression, have you?" Shelby pressed.

"We’ve had _a lot_ of private interactions since we met yesterday. All talking about you.”

"Fine, point taken.” Shelby put her hand to her forehead. “I just don’t understand why all of a sudden she…”

“She what?”

“I don’t know! Thinks Toni and I going to sleep together in the cold room!”

Grimacing, Nora shuddered slightly. "Yeah, I do not recommend the cold room. It seems like a good idea until—" She cleared her throat suddenly. "Okay, first of all no one said Toni wanted to fuck you. Not that you're not fuckable because you totally are…let's just move away from the fucking thing altogether.”

Shelby nodded slowly, pressing her lips together in a frown as she looked at the floor.

“Why did I go with fuck? I could have said anything.”

“I’m wondering that myself.”

“Shelby, I think you're overreacting here. Even if Toni does have a crush on you, so what?"

"I'm glad you can be so indifferent."

"It's not a big deal. If you're not interested, take it as a compliment and move on.”

Glairing, Shelby turned irritably away from the doctor. She planned to forcibly extract Quinn from the agents if necessary, but she found him smiling and ready, a long list of suggested reagents and protocols for her to try. Brilliant. Science was exponentially simpler than girls.

+o+o

Unfortunately, Shelby's meeting with Quinn wasn't as successful as she'd hoped. His list was exactly that: a list. None of the protocols had actually been tested in their hands. Although his team had been working on an antibody assay, they'd had limited data come out of their attempts, so they had abandoned it temporarily to focus their energy on other projects. Shelby had been under the impression they just wanted her to test the previous study participants, but apparently they wanted her to develop the whole assay as well. GTW needed it up and running to assess the vaccine efficacy toward B cells, but Shelby couldn't do it alone in the time she had left. Quinn agreed to put at least one technician on the problem to work in tandem with Shelby while she was back in Texas for Christmas. With any luck, they could optimize a protocol for further testing when she returned to Minneapolis after New Year.

Shelby was thus something of an emotional hodgepodge through Dot and Fatin’s visit. Quinn and Kurt both left Friday night, but Fatin and Dot stayed until Sunday. Having them both around was wonderful from the point of view that Shelby had missed them and was happy to get to spend some time with her old friends. She took them to a number of scenic locations and fed them handsomely. There were a few times that Dot tried to corner her alone, but under Fatin’s watchful eye anything approaching privacy was next to impossible. By Sunday night, she was not afraid to say she was happy to see the back of them both. Shelby probably wouldn't have acknowledged it, but she resented Fatin for making her dread seeing Toni. She hated feeling like there was another barrier between them when they'd made so much progress toward being friends. As Shelby drove them toward MSP, they passed the iconic Riverside Plaza apartment complex, a concrete building with large colored panels on the sides.

"So, what did you think of Minnesota?" Shelby asked.

"I'm trapped in an episode of Mary Tyler Moore," Dot said. "Isn't that the place where she used to live?"

"Yeah, that's Cedar-Riverside."

"When are you coming home for Christmas?"

"December twenty-first. It's a Saturday."

"I'll be there if I can. I could send a car otherwise. Or Mateo."

"I'm sure he'd love that.”

Shelby parked in front of the ticketing level, helping Dot and Fatin with their bags and giving them each a hug.

"I'll be home in a few weeks," Shelby said. "I love you guys.”

Fatin started off toward the terminal, but Dot jogged back, gripping her by the elbows. “Shelby…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Shelby said. “Really, I’m fine.”

Dot looked her in the eyes, her expression revealing she could see, see far more than Shelby wanted to admit. “I am always here for you. No matter what.”

Nodding, Shelby tried to pull away, but Dot drew her into a tight hug that almost brought the pain up in a single overwhelming sob. Dot and Fatin disappeared into the airport and Shelby closed the trunk of the car, wiping a tear from her face. She couldn’t bear the thought of discussing Toni a second more, not with so many things on her mind.

+o+o

She hardly slept Sunday night. Monday was the feasibility review, and she was nervous about what the evaluation results would be like. She told herself her anxiety had nothing to do with seeing Toni, that Fatin was still wrong and she shouldn't be afraid either of Toni or of herself. She was well practiced and knew what to do. But then she still woke up the next morning in a nervous sweat. Pulling her pillow over her face, she let out a muffled noise of frustration. She spent the next twenty-five minutes writing a long email to Fatin describing in detail how much she deplored her ability to meddle in other people’s relationships. Pacified by the effort, she eventually exercised enough willpower to delete it, then got out of bed. And since it was the wrong thing to do, she let her fear devolve into anger.

Martha and the nurses were the only people in the clinic when they arrived. Sitting down between Martha and Nora, Shelby tried to take Nora's advice to just be calm and move on, but that plan went to shit when Toni turned up. She angled her head a fraction when she noted Shelby wedged between Martha and Nora like a crab in the rocks scared of the tide, but then Martha very helpfully budged up, leaving Toni the head of the table as usual. Of course, Martha was just holding the place, not claiming it for herself. Because why should the universe be kind to Shelby?

“Just us again?” Toni asked as she sat down.

Shelby knew somewhere that she didn't mean anything by it, that she was just asking if Dot and Fatin were gone, but Shelby squirmed uncomfortably nonetheless. Toni's hair was smooth and shiny, her eyes bright, and she was wonderfully beautiful and unaware as she smiled at Shelby.

"No," Shelby snapped. “I mean, yes. Whatever.”

Toni nodded, giving her a funny look but seemingly satisfied with that answer. On Shelby's other side, Nora gave her a meaningful look. _Chill, Shelby_. But she couldn't. It hit her in the chest. A thousand emotions both new and remembered. Shock. Smaller bits of other things that compressed so tightly they came right back round to shock again. The meeting was a daze. All she could think about was how close Toni was sitting. What the meaning was behind every glance, every shift in Toni's posture, her playful smiles, or the slight frown she got when Shelby didn't laugh at her notes. And she couldn't stop thinking about if Toni could smell her shampoo, if she could see the reddish blush creeping up her neck. Toni's hand brushed her arm and the jolt of sensation made her stomach drop. A foment of fear and irritation and other things she dare not name.

When the meeting ended, Shelby immediately turned away from Toni as much as possible, desperately trying to give every appearance of being deep in some discussion with Nora. She kept at it, completely rigid, and all the while the doctor’s eyes flickered to the face she knew must be waiting beyond her. Finally, Nora sighed and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"She’s gone,” said Nora.

“ _Shit_.”

"Toni didn't look super happy when she left."

"What am I doing?"

"Uh, besides being all weird for no reason, not sure.”

Shelby got to her feet, so torn between hiding and screaming it strangely just made her feel like crying. She didn't even notice Leah until she'd almost collided with her.

"Hi, Shelby," Leah said to her.

"Hi, Leah," Shelby said, looking somewhere over the girl's left shoulder.

"Could I speak to you in private for just a moment?"

Glancing at Nora, Shelby shrugged and followed her a little way down the corridor.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said quietly.

"For what?" Shelby said, forehead furrowing.

"Talking to Toni."

Okay, it wasn't like she was doing a public service or anything. "I talk to her all the time." Or had talked to her, since Shelby was evidently having some serious issues on that front.

"No, I meant about…that thing."

"Have I missed something?"

"About you know…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The questionnaire."

She'd completely forgotten all about the stupid thing. "Oh, I…"

"Yeah, thanks. Things look a lot more normal."

Shelby rubbed tiredly at her eyes. "Great."

Toni wasn't the real problem with the study anyway. The kid who'd magically gotten mono from no one was the real issue. The time was past for caring who Toni Shalifoe did or didn’t date. Shelby's only shameful interest was just hoping it wasn't her. She left the clinic as quickly as possible, feeling a hundred times worse than she had when she got there.

+o+o

Shelby sat staring at her blank screen, cheek resting on her fist. She was so distracted she didn't even hear anyone approach her, just felt the soft hand that descended on her shoulder. It was gentle and undemanding, asking with the lightness of touch for permission. She knew without looking that it was Toni, but she glanced into the dark reflection in the glass of the screen as though to confirm with sight what her other senses already suspected.

“Hey,” Toni said.

A second later, the hand left her shoulder and Toni leaned against the bench.

“What’s going on?” Toni asked.

Shelby took a breath, trying to steady herself. “Not much.”

“Everything…go okay with your friends from home?”

“Yeah…Yeah, why?”

“You…just seem a little low-key salty about them visiting. I guess I just wanted to ask, you know, in case no one else did. If everything was okay.”

Her voice was so soft and sincere. Her left ankle was crossed over the right, and she lounged there casually enough, but the question was a deep one. The _right_ one. How was Shelby supposed to explain without divulging the whole stupid thing? Because it was stupid, unless Fatin was right, and then what was it? Fucking _hope?_ Shelby didn't know.

"I just—I think—” Shelby mumbled, not knowing what to say.

“There are these things called words,” Toni teased her. “You put a bunch of them in a row and make a sentence.”

Almost hyperventilating, she practically shouted, “Maybe I need some space! Okay?”

As soon as the words had left her, she wished she could take it back. It was unequivocally the wrong thing to say, implying fault on Toni's part. Frantically, Shelby tried to backpedal.

“No,” Shelby said. “Wait.”

“It’s okay, Shelby,” Toni said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Shelby might have avoided talking to her anymore at all if Toni had still been working on the sequencing project, but she wasn't. It was finished. She needed new instructions.

“What are we doing today?” Toni asked, getting out the iPad.

They were back to the iPad. Shelby gazed up at her, wishing she could stop feeling that tight ache under her solar plexus every time Toni gave her that look. That concerned, pitying look.

“DNA extraction,” Shelby said at last.

Toni nodded, putting the tablet down on the bench so Shelby could come and explain. Carefully closing her laptop, Shelby stood. She approached slowly, and Toni actually backed away, maintaining a respectable distance. Toni's eyes were trained on the screen, not even glancing at Shelby as she began to write.

“We have blood cells that are frozen,” Shelby began. “They get frozen in a dimethyl sulfoxide solution to prevent ice crystals from damaging them. When they get thawed we have to rinse the DMSO off. Then we lyse them.”

“What do we rinse with?”

“Saline. After we lyse them, we use ethanol to precipitate the DNA. It looks like a fluffy white powder.”

Nodding seriously, Toni watched as Shelby showed her all of the tiny plastic columns they would use to extract the DNA, and the little centrifuge. Having something to focus on took some of the awkward uncertainty from the situation, and again Toni proved to Shelby her worth as an assistant. She was always one step ahead, loosening the cap on the next reagent, arranging another row of tubes, or labelling the collection vessels. More and more, Shelby sensed the ebbing of the terror she'd felt and instead felt nothing but a creeping, pervasive shame. A younger Shelby might not have cared, might even have felt vindicated she had conquered the monster inside her, but she had grown since then, hadn't she?

Shelby knew from the first time they had been at the bench together, they just fit. Sometimes, Shelby felt so close to her they might have been joined at the hip, their muscles controlled by the same nerve impulses. But then there were moments when Toni was closed and inaccessible. She turned away to continue with their work, and Shelby knew she had missed her opportunity. They finished the rest of the demonstration speaking only when necessary, and after, Toni went without saying goodbye.

+o+o

"Autoimmune disease affects over six million Americans. One of these diseases is multiple sclerosis, also known as MS. Like most autoimmune diseases, MS affects primarily women, although men can also be affected. There are a lot of theories about the initiation of MS, but we believe that in individuals that are genetically predisposed, infection can be a triggering event. Of ubiquitous—oh, fuck—what now, Shelby?"

Shelby waved her hand, bringing Nora to a shuddering halt. "We need to rework this whole opening segment."

"What?" Nora said, equal parts anxious and exasperated. "What's wrong with it?"

"You're speaking to people who potentially have no education in science. What is autoimmunity? How does it work? You need to explain all that before you even introduce infection.”

"Well, how about I get through more than two slides before you rip the damn thing apart? Is that too much to ask as one scientist to another?"

"Honorary scientist."

Rolling her eyes, Nora got back into the flow of her presentation. "We can think of T cells in your immune system like little cops. They patrol your body looking for things that are suspicious. Before they can do that though, they need some sensitivity training so they can be nice to your cells while killing the bad guys."

"This is the oddest explanation of central tolerance I've ever heard."

Nora sighed. "Do you have a better suggestion? You could always give this talk yourself.”

Shelby shrugged grouchily.

"This is supposed to be for laymen, right?"

"Nora, you're anthropomorphizing the cells."

"They're human cells, does that count?"

"No."

Tossing her laser pointer onto the table, Nora jumped up and sat next to Shelby.

Shelby crossed her arms. "Why're you stopping? We've been through like, three slides."

"Because we've been through _three_ slides. We're going to take a break for a second while you tell me what you messed up with Toni, please."

"Nothing."

"What is that sound I hear in the distance?” Nora held her hand up to ear. “I think it’s the call of the great North American _bullshit_.”

"Fine. I accidentally told her I needed some space. In a really horrible way.”

"Nice. Excellent work. Well, this is going to make the MMF dinner awkward."

"Who said I was going to the MMF dinner?"

"Did I forget to tell you? You're my pitch partner. Minor detail."

"I'm your what?"

"Like I said, minor, teensy detail. Anyway, apologize, because Toni is my plus one and I'd really rather not have you two bitching it out while we should be getting donors. Please and thank you."

"You're bringing her as your date?"

Nora lifted her hands in surrender. "It's not a date. Unless your boss goes on dates with you regularly, because Daniel will be there. She bailed me out the other day and I thought she might help us at the dinner, okay?”

Shelby shook her head, leaning further back in her chair. "I can't be there if she is."

"I still don't get why there's so much drama. Shouldn't you be like, flattered not terrified?"

That was the trouble. Shelby was afraid, and it was more than she was worth to try to tell Nora why. "I don't know what to do."

"Just show her it’s okay. It _is_ okay isn’t it?" Nora pushed at Shelby's shoulder. "You’re a better friend than this, aren’t you?”

It was so unknowingly close to her own speech to Toni all those months ago, it shook her into having a bit of backbone. Finally, Shelby nodded contritely.


	13. Chapter 13

If Toni could find videos of Shelby singing show tunes at Miss Texas Teen, then it stood to reason that Shelby would be able to find videos of Toni playing ball. She tried various combinations of Toni’s name and “basketball” and “UMN” in her search bar. Eventually that brought her to several years’ worth of the University of Minnesota women’s basketball roster. When she sorted them by height, Toni’s rose to the top, by far the shortest on a team of women ranging from five foot ten to six foot three. She wasn’t much of a toothy smiler, but she did have a big genuine smile in her official photo, hair braided back, the Big Ten Conference logo on the left side of her jersey. Beside the picture was the caption:

_G / 5’3” Freshman / Leech Lake, MN / Hopewell Lake HS_

It took some additional Googling but Shelby took it all to mean that Toni had been a guard and that she graduated from Hopewell Lake High School, wherever that was. There was another tab that read _Full Bio_ which she naturally clicked on and there were yet more photos of Toni there along with a short description of her high school career.

_Toni was captain of her high school team, a four-star recruit according to ESPN and the 44 th ranked player overall. She was the number 15 point guard in the class and a three time all-state honoree including in her junior season when she averaged 33.1 points, 5.6 rebounds, and 7.1 steals per game. She shot 55% from the field and 89.9% on free throws. She led her team to the state championship her senior year._

But then there was another section underneath _Personal_. Most of the other girls had a bit about their parents or siblings, but Toni’s just read _Major undetermined_. It took maybe twenty minutes of additional searching, but she managed to find a recap of the girl’s high school final from Toni’s year covered by a local news channel. She looked tiny in among Minnesota farm girls almost a foot taller, but she was so, so fast and accurate, sinking an amazing number of three pointers. The last lingering image was of Toni’s elated, sweaty face as she held up the trophy with her teammates, the newscaster’s voice droning over the footage, “…huge congratulations to the Hopewell Lake team on their victory tonight.”

Shelby paused the video, just looking at that smile. Then, suddenly she exed out of everything, shutting her laptop entirely when closing all the tabs and windows wasn’t enough. She felt miserably like she’d invaded some sacred secret thing and couldn’t shake the sensation of trespass long after it was done.

+o+o

The aura of bad feeling persisted through the day of the MMF dinner, and though Toni was perfectly professional, she felt distant. The dinner itself unluckily fell on Friday the thirteenth, and Nora spent the morning in a state of complete and utter panic, running around like having her presentation backed up in thirty different places would guarantee an excellent oratory delivery that night. Shelby thought things couldn't get much worse until Toni came into the lab around three still brushing snow off her shoulders, her boots squeaking wetly against the lino.

"Toni," Nora called to the undergrad. "Is it snowing out there?"

"Fuck tons," Toni replied. "It's snowed three or four inches since this morning and it looks like we're going to get five or six more this afternoon."

"Oh, no,” Shelby said.

"What?" Nora exclaimed. "You are not allowed to say anything in that tone of voice right now."

"It's snowing. I've driven in plenty of ice, but never a foot of snow. How am I supposed to get home and back again tonight?"

"Uber? Lyft?”

"I can't leave my car here overnight with all the break ins!”

"You can't leave me alone with Daniel and a bunch of donors!"

“I’ll do it.”

Shelby heard her, but it took several seconds for the voice to actually register fully. The girl lifted her eyebrows slightly and Shelby stared at her for a second before realizing her mouth was hanging open. Sweeping her hair off her shoulder, Toni nodded at the unasked question.

Shelby hesitated. “You drive stick?”

“Is that a euphemism? Because I’m gold star.”

“What?”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Manual transmission.”

“You don’t mind?”

“You’re asking a lot of fucking questions for someone who needs a favor.”

For a long moment she held Shelby's eye, until Shelby thought she might liquefy from the intensity of her stare. Then Toni sighed and jumped down from where she was sitting on the bench.

“Let me go get my shit,” Toni said. “I’ll be back in thirty.”

Pulling on her jacket, she sauntered out the door. About half an hour passed before Toni reappeared, looking exactly the same with the exception of a small black bag that hung from one shoulder. She nodded quickly to Shelby. The cocktail reception began at 1830 meaning they only had two hours to get to Shelby's apartment on snowy roads, get ready, and be back again at the Alumni Center. They left the lab with Nora, the girl's walk a smooth meander beside Sheby’s quicker strides, while Nora kept colliding with both of them as she became distracted. As they emerged on street level, Shelby looked around them in dismay. So much snow had fallen during the day, and it was still falling. Toni paused, planting her boots on the carpeted pavement, waiting for Shelby to lead the way toward the parking garage.

Shelby's car was parked in a ramp across the street and Nora parted from them there, with several harried warnings about schedules and laser pointers and ice under the snow. Handing Toni the keys, Shelby took her up to the third floor and pointed at her car. It was black, expensive and not at all suited to surviving in a Minnesota winter. Shelby was self-aware enough to feel a bit guilty about showing it to Toni, an undergrad with two jobs, but Toni's grin allayed some of her apprehension.

“ _This_ is your fucking car?” Toni said.

Shelby nodded with her eyes trained assiduously on the exit sign behind Toni so she didn’t have to meet her gaze. She’d been self-conscious of her wealth enough times, but she’d never felt like she did standing in front of that car with Toni. Disgusted with herself and with the opulence of such a petty material thing.

“You’re lucky it’s a stick,” Toni said as she judged the distance between the chassis and the concrete. “We’d never make it otherwise, damn.”

She climbed behind the wheel and very quickly, Shelby learned that Toni knew what she was about. She got the feel for the clutch and gunned it back out of the space, taking the ramps in the garage too fast until they got out to the street. Then she was all business, enthusiasm for the sports car seemingly lost in her determination to handle it expertly in the snow. They had almost left campus before Shelby worked out she could actually learn something from Toni, so she wouldn’t be stuck in future.

“What are you doing there?” Shelby asked.

“Driving,” Toni replied.

“No, like, what should I do?”

Toni glanced at her, mouth twisting as she thought about it and downshifted to control the car’s speed. “Always go slower than you think you need. Try to brake as little as possible. Use the transmission.” She deliberately took them around a corner, and then accelerated out of it too quickly, letting Shelby experience the sickening slide of the car over the slush as it failed to find purchase. “Did you feel that slip? Just low and slow. As gentle as you can with everything.”

Shelby contemplated her, fingers tight around the gear shift, then realized she was staring and quickly looked out the window, trying not to listen too much to the cadence of her voice. Toni moved expertly through traffic, using the manual to her best advantage in the slushy mess. In just twenty minutes, Toni had them safely in Shelby's heated underground garage. Setting the handbrake, Toni gave her a small sardonic bow, bending at the waist over her hand. Then she got out of the car, leaving Shelby alone.

The difference in atmosphere was stark as Shelby let Toni into her apartment. The last time they had both been there, they’d sat in front of Shelby's fire drinking vodka on Thanksgiving Day. At the moment it ironically more closely resembled getting ready for dinner with someone who just broke up with her. Tense and a little awkward under a veneer of familiarity. Shelby ushered Toni into the guest half bath with a stack of fresh towels, before disappearing into her own en suite. It was nearly six by the time she emerged again, to find Toni already prepared, leaning against her terrace door. She was incredibly beautiful, in a simple dark suit, the fabric of her shirt contrasting against her skin. When she finally glanced up at Shelby, it made her breath hitch.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Toni asked snarkily.

“Nice suit,” Shelby replied. “Did you get it just for this?”

“Nah, I’ve had it while. Don’t get many reasons to wear it.”

Then Toni smiled and Shelby suddenly wanted more than anything in the world to tell Toni she was beautiful and have her feel it like no one had ever said it before. But she didn't know how to say it without cheapening Toni's secret, and instead just motioned for the door. They were nearly out again when Toni made a noise, and Shelby half-turned to her, looking into her face over her shoulder.

“Zipper’s undone,” she murmured.

“No, it’s fine,” Shelby said quickly. “I got it.”

And Shelby didn’t think she meant to do it, didn’t mean to brush the groove of her spine between her shoulder blades with her knuckles, but she did as she pulled Shelby’s half-done zipper up the rest of the way. Her skin prickled and burned, rippling her arms with goose flesh. Just a zipper. Just a fucking zipper. Toni went out first, pausing to admire her neighbor’s door.

“Like I said,” Toni said. “Dude has a strong wreath game.”

+o+o

They were late, but they swept up outside the copper and glass edifice of the McNamara Alumni Center just in time, Toni surrendering the vehicle to the valet as though she did this sort of thing everyday, stunning and haughty as she stalked around the boot and followed Shelby into the building. Sometimes Shelby forgot about Christmas; it had been such a long time since she'd felt any magic regarding the holiday it had devolved into a ritual to be observed. But as she stepped onto the floor of the ballroom and gazed up into the gorgeous high arch of the ceiling she remembered. The lighting was soft, reminiscent of glittering snow and stars with fairy lights that wove across the glass fissures. She only got to admire it for a moment, though, before Daniel seized her by the hand.

"Oh, good you're here," Daniel said in a tense whisper. "Have you seen Nora?"

"No, we just got here," Shelby replied, keeping her voice low.

"She was supposed to be here half an hour ago for the tech check for her presentation but she didn't turn up."

Shelby sighed. "I'll go call her."

Turning back to Toni, Shelby touched her on the shoulder without thinking, slipping past to call Nora in a quiet corridor somewhere. She tried twice but she wasn't successful in reaching Nora either time.

“Doctor Disaster?” Toni asked.

Shelby nodded. “Think it’s the snow?”

“Maybe. She’s been so nervous maybe she dipped.”

“Nora wouldn’t do that.”

Daniel cleared his throat, reminding them he was still present. "Do you have Nora's presentation?"

"I have it here on a thumb drive," said Shelby, "but I don't exactly have a laptop with me, do I?"

"They have one. Shelby, I hate to ask this, but if Nora doesn't come, we need this funding. Would you give her presentation?"

Shelby shook her head in uncertainty. “I don’t know. I watched Nora but I haven’t practiced it. It wouldn’t be smooth.”

"Shelby, I'm begging you, please."

"Why can't you do it?"

"You just said you practiced with her, didn't you?"

"Listening, not talking!"

Toni angled her head slightly, saying, “I sure as hell can’t do it.”

"Oh, for the love of…fine." Pulling the flash drive from her handbag, Shelby slapped it into Daniel's palm. "This is the presentation. If Nora isn't here when her turn comes, I'll do it.”

Daniel smiled gleefully, scurrying off to transfer the presentation onto whatever laptop the organizers had prepared. Meanwhile, Shelby attempted to phone Nora again, still with no success. Halfway through her third call, Daniel interrupted her.

"I've heard from Nora," he announced. "She's been in an accident. Trying to get here now, but no guarantee she'll arrive in time."

Over the next hour Daniel introduced them to about six million people, none of whom Shelby could keep straight and she was already tired of hearing herself talk by the time everyone sat down to dinner. Regrettably, Nora was still with the police when they were seated because the Faber lab had the great fortune to be at the same table with Grant Stratford, one of the richest and most generous donors of the MMF. He was middle aged, but handsome and Shelby was thinking she was going to have to break out her womanly charms when she noticed he had his wife with him. It looked like they were down to the merit of the research alone. Not a good sign with the clinician for the project drowning in a sea of police reports and insurance paperwork.

"Mister Stratford," Daniel said, "very pleased to meet you, sir. I'm Doctor Daniel Faber and these are my students Shelby and Toni."

"Please, call me Grant," Stratford replied easily. "This is my wife Erica."

Shelby started to say something to drum up some support for Nora, when Toni leaned forward slightly and extended her hand over the place settings. She was looking curiously at him, the candlelight flickering brightly in her eyes.

“Hey, Mister Stratford,” Toni said. “You probably don’t remember me, but we met a couple of years ago during a scouting visit. I’m Toni Shalifoe.

Stratford cocked his head, evidently trying to put her face and the name together. “I’m not sure—wait. Are you that little guard from Hopewell Lake?”

“That’s me. Small but mighty.”

“I was sorry to hear about your accident.”

“Yeah, me too.” Toni shrugged. “Shit happens.”

Daniel glanced up sharply at Stratford, not sure if Toni casually swearing in front of him was going to be problematic, but Stratford nodded thoughtfully as he agreed.

“Shit does happen,” he replied.

“How did I know you’d find a way to talk about basketball?” Erica put in.

“She marries _me_ of all people and then complains I like basketball,” Stratford laughed.

“There are some things you can’t change for love or money.”

They were teasing each other, but Shelby could tell it was good-natured and borne of mutual fondness.

Pointing at Toni, Stratford said to Erica, “This is Toni Shalifoe.”

He pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his jacket and Shelby caught a glimpse of a photo of Toni. She had on the Maroon and Gold uniform of the University of Minnesota basketball team, the number 3 emblazoned across her abdomen. The muscle in her shoulders stood out as she juked another player in the photo, eyes clearly focused on the basket. She was supposed to be trying to curry favor with Stratford, but she couldn't stop watching as the undergrad talked to him. First about how the Gophers were doing in the Big Ten, then about the Minnesota Lynx and their chances for the WNBA title. It was mesmerizing, to see this side of her, because so often it was Toni hiding, withholding; sequestered behind a wall of anger.

“Who is this guy?” Shelby whispered to Daniel.

“He owns the Minnesota Lynx,” Daniel replied.

Shelby felt a sadness welling in her. She couldn’t imagine how it must cut, to have such skill and passion and be struck down in your prime. Eventually, Toni brought up Nora’s project and the next thing Shelby knew, she and Daniel were running through the particulars of the research. There was a moment in the exchange when Toni looked over her shoulder, and when she caught Shelby’s eye, a flash of melancholy showed through.

“Doctor Reid is great,” Toni added during a lull in the conversation. “Without her and her sister Rachel I probably wouldn’t be able to walk.”

It suddenly became apparent to her that she wasn’t talking to Stratford out any desire to relive the old days or reconnect with the sport she’d left. She’d done it all to help Nora. Shelby nodded at her encouragingly and Toni gave her a small lopsided smile. Shelby didn’t know why, but she immediately felt like she’d do anything to make Toni smile like that again.

+o+o

The presentations started just as dessert began. Who decided the presentations should come after dinner, Shelby didn't know, but it was probably a toss-up between trying to squeeze money from peevish starving donors or presenting projects to recently fed donors who were falling asleep. Shelby sat tensely waiting for Nora's timeslot, but just as she'd resigned herself to giving Nora's talk without her, the doctor came screeching in like a whirlwind and dropped into her vacant chair as though she'd just run the Iditarod in an evening gown.

"Nora, I’m so glad you’re okay," Shelby said in relief.

"Thanks, Shelby," Nora replied dryly.

"I'm going to give your speech. So just sit here and see if they'll bring you some dinner."

"No, I'm here and I'm doing this." Nora's eyes bulged like she was teetering on the edge of a psychotic break.

"Then I'm going with you."

"What happened to—“

"…and our next speaker, Doctor Nora Reid of Clinical Virology Programs and her presentation on infectious disease triggers of autoimmunity."

Glaring and challenging each other to make a sprint for the podium, Nora and Shelby simultaneously stood up and climbed up to the stage.

"Hi, folks," Nora said, only betraying a slight tremor. "I'm Doctor Reid and this is my lovely assistant Shelby Goodkind."

They ended up giving the presentation together, riffing comically off one another, until Shelby realized about halfway through that she was actually having a good time. Catching Toni's eye, she smiled and Toni gave her a cryptic nod. When the presentations concluded about an hour later, Nora was gazing forlornly at photos of her smashed car and Grant Stratford was contemplating the side of Daniel's head. Finally, he stood up and shook Daniel's hand firmly.

"I'd love to fund your project," Stratford told Daniel. "Let's talk details on Monday."

Nora leapt up, eagerly shaking hands with Stratford while hissing repeated and vehement thank yous to Shelby. When Shelby turned back again, Toni had gone. She was standing just outside the doors in the snow, gazing up into the night sky. Shelby went out to her in spite of her dress being little protection against the cold.

“That was really sweet of you,” Shelby said.

The snow fell silently around them. Toni slowly blew out breath into the cold as she took in the flecked pink of the night sky, the snowflakes melting on her skin. Shrugging, she gave one long lingering look at Williams Arena, and then turned her back on it.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Is it…you know, final?” Shelby asked. “You won’t play again?”

Toni shook her head wordlessly.

“Not even with therapy?”

“I’m in pain most of the time. I basically need a knee replacement…” She shook her head again. “I'll never be fast enough.”

“Toni…”

“What do you want, Shelby? Like I thought—I don’t know what I thought.”

Smiling bitterly, Shelby curled her arms around herself, knowing she needed to either say something or freeze. But it boiled like bile, strangled her, left her with nothing but that hideous ghost of a smile.

“Yeah. Okay.” Putting her hands in her pockets, Toni walked off in the direction of 17th Avenue. “Maybe _I_ need some space, too.”

She didn’t know why she did it. Toni, hurt and leaving and not understanding, it panicked her utterly. Didn’t know what to say or do. Just closed those few feet, grabbed Toni’s wrist, to stop her. Turn her. Slipping on the snow, Toni caught her forearm, only managing to stay upright when Shelby wrapped her arm around her hip. Shelby couldn’t, shouldn’t, and yet all she could think about was kissing her with bruising force, making her feel as unhinged and desperate as she did every time Toni looked at her. Kissing her, marking her with teeth. Their lips met in a rush of want, pressing and insistent, but then the hand on her waist gentled her, demanded it of her so that she thought chaining the intensity of it would crush her; forced her, like prison bars closing round, to remember who she was.

She backed away, silent. Shocked and out of breath and thoroughly broken, panting in short frigid clouds. Toni lost her balance without Shelby to support her, bouncing unsteadily on her right foot before catching herself enough to take a step forward. Tunnel vision. A ringing in her ears amplified by the thick dulling blanket of snow.

“Shelby.”

“Oh, God.”

“Shelby!”

Shelby bolted, turning and sprinting directly for the door of the Alumni Center. Behind her, she was vaguely aware of Toni giving chase, but she was no match for Shelby with her leg. She didn’t know her way, and in frantically searching for the stairs down, she ended up back in the main ballroom. She turned on the spot, on the verge of tears, when she collided with Nora.

“I can’t believe it!” Nora cried, pausing with a confused glance at the snow in Shelby’s hair, “Were you outside?”

“No,” Shelby blurted. “Yes. It’s not important.”

"My car is completely totaled and yet I feel pretty good," Nora said, throwing her arm over Shelby's shoulder.

Brushing some of the snow from her hair, Shelby just nodded numbly, eyes flicking repeatedly to the place where she’d fled from Toni like a coward. Like a frightened rabbit.

"I'll even drive you home."

“Yeah, okay.”

Nora blinked. “Not the response I was expecting after I just crashed my own car.”

Beyond, she saw Toni finally catch up, standing on the other side of the ballroom. Watching her with searching, piercing eyes.

Shelby exhaled and swallowed, mastering herself. "At least you got funded."

"High five?"

Shelby high fived her without much enthusiasm, turning away from Nora's disappointed frown to collect her car from the valet. Her heart hammered in her chest. God, what had she done?

What the fuck had she done?


	14. Chapter 14

She paced. It seemed appropriate. Up and down, up and down along the length of her apartment. Not really seeing anything except for occasionally the rug. Oh, and the sofa. And the blanket Toni used to—no, not focusing too much on that. Not thinking either about that shocked look on Toni’s face or the way she’d yielded to Shelby—soft and _hot_ and—no. Not thinking about that either. She pushed her fingers into her hair, nails raking across her scalp. Weakness. Not even weakness. Madness. She had been down that road. She knew where it ended. It did not end with love and happiness. It ended in self-loathing and regret. It ended alone.

+o+o

By Monday morning Shelby must have written 642 texts to Toni. 321 of them pretending nothing happened and the other 321 trying to explain it away as too much champagne (she hadn’t been drinking) or the icy sidewalk (it wasn’t) or literally fucking anything that wasn’t the truth. She deleted all of them, and only realized later in a surge of aggravation she must exist on Toni’s phone as a set of three blinking dots that never materialized into a message. What was she supposed to say? _Hey, sorry about that incredibly charged gay kiss we had the other night; I don’t know what got into me._ There weren’t enough words in the English language to encompass all of her emotions about her herself, about life, or about Toni. The only thing to be relied upon was that the work must continue.

Monday marked the beginning of final exam week and the undergraduates hurtled about in a haze of stress and exhaustion as they moved ever closer to end of term. Shelby had been there and knew what it was to suffer through. To be honest, she almost enjoyed watching them, indulging in a bit of schadenfreude as she went into lab. Maybe it was her comeuppance, then, when she discovered that _someone_ (Nora Reid!) had dropped a box of samples into the liquid nitrogen dewar. Naturally, it necessitated Shelby leaving everything she was doing in order to rescue the tubes. The most annoying thing about it was that nitrogen is not a trivial substance in its liquid phase, snap freezing anything that gets too close. So Shelby had to go into the neighboring building to get very specialized equipment: a net.

It was on her way back to lab that she spotted Martha's foot. She recognized it by the shoe, as she probably would have been unable to pick Martha's bare foot out of a line up if it had come to a do or die round of foot recognition. It hung off the end of one of the sofas by the coffee shop, and as she saw it she made the split second decision to run for the street and take the long way around. She only got three steps away.

“Shelby!”

Martha’s voice rang out to her and she froze, knowing she couldn’t sprint for the stairs resembling a deranged entomologist. She sighed quietly, accepting that the thing she’d been dreading had come true within minutes of being on campus. Turning, Shelby put on her brightest smile and walked back. With her arms over the back of the couch, Martha gazed up at Shelby. Then she quirked an eyebrow when she noticed the net.

“Should I ask?” Martha said, motioning to the net.

Shelby pulled a face. “Nora.”

Martha's answering expression betrayed no hint of surprise or further question whatsoever. Shelby kept her eyes assiduously fixed on Martha, but all she could feel, as though the air had grown nerves, was the possibility that Toni had told her. So instead, Shelby tried to think of something else to say.

"When do you go home for the holiday?" Shelby said, grasping at straws.

"Friday. Toni was supposed to come with me, but she and Regan are doing something, so they're coming back later. I wonder if their—"

"Regan?” Shelby interjected. "Are they…you know… like…?”

“Back together?” Martha raised her hands in defeat. “I never know what’s going on with them.”

Well, that was the icing on the dumpster fire. Shelby crossed her arms, feeling suddenly and inexplicably cold, like a chill touched some inner part of her that made her innards sink with yet more agitation. Either Martha knew about the The Thing that Should Not be Named and mentioned Regan as…a tip off? A warning? Or she didn’t know and mentioned Regan because of course Toni would be with someone else. Like Regan. That just made perfect—

“Are we still on to study for my final tonight?” Martha asked, drawing Shelby back to reality.

"Of course. Don’t worry, you'll be fine. You finished the first section over the summer, yeah?"

Pushing back from the sofa, Shelby made to return to lab but Martha had one last comment for her, "Tell Nora congratulations on her funding!"

Thinking on Nora's success with Grant Stratford brought her back to their conversation on Friday night, and she stopped dead in the middle of the tunnel. She’d known about Toni’s connection to Rachel since her accidental eavesdropping over the summer. But Nora? Was Nora Toni’s fucking doctor?

+o+o

That evening Martha and Shelby progressed most of the way through the citric acid cycle. Frankly, Shelby was really happy the cells in her body continued to know how to do it even though bits of it had apparently been purged from her memory. Although Martha was clearly entering that mushy brain stage where further revision was pointless, Shelby insisted on one more go through, as the repetition could only help. She was so engrossed in watching Martha struggle through the last two steps she didn't even notice when Toni came in and watched as Martha wrote Acetyl-CoA on the white board in squeaky dry erase marker. When Shelby nodded approvingly, Martha triumphantly threw her first in the air.

"I know the citric acid cycle!" she shouted.

"Well done, Marty," said Shelby, faintly amused.

"You know I thought taking more chemistry would mean I would meet more boys, but I haven’t been asked on a single date.”

Glancing up at Martha, Shelby raised her eyebrows. She was about to say something about nerds and social awkwardness when Toni spoke up behind her.

“Yeah, chemistry is a weird place to pick up guys,” Toni said.

Shelby jumped, whirling on the spot, and stood with all her muscles tensed. Epinephrine coursed through her, readying her to fight or flee, but Toni was well away, still almost at the door. A hundred thoughts went through her head and she’d really childishly settled on “Well, she could have texted _me_ ” when Toni broke the silence by saying:

“Are you ready to go, Marty?”

“Just let me pack up my stuff,” Martha replied.

She circled around Shelby’s chair and started stuffing her books and notes into her backpack. All the long while, Shelby stilled like a statue, stealing a glance at Toni only when she thought she might not be looking, but Toni was there, some twenty feet away with her eyes trained on Shelby’s face. Her expression remained oddly blank, neither angry nor shocked nor reproachful. After a few moments, Toni averted her gaze toward Martha and did not look back again. Shelby ached with indecision, wanting to talk to her, to explain, but also wanting to pretend, to forget. Martha finally picked up her bag and started to join Toni, when she pivoted, running up to Shelby and hugging her with such a force it almost knocked the wind out of her.

“Thanks, Shelby,” Martha said sincerely. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

Shelby patted Martha on the back. “Honestly, you had it in you the whole time.”

Over Martha’s shoulder, Shelby caught a glimpse of Toni rolling her eyes.

“Come on, Martha,” Toni called, checking her phone. “Target closes in like an hour.”

Taking two steps, Martha turned, her face alight, “Come with us, Shelby.”

“To Target?” Shelby asked. “Oh—um, can’t. Stuff to get done before I fly home. And…you know. Busy.”

“You’ve been working way too hard! Forget all that and come with us.”

Instinctually, Shelby looked to Toni, half expecting her to have crossed her arms and angled her body away in a universal display of passive aggressive displeasure, but Toni just stood waiting with her gaze fixed on the carpet. That was how Shelby ended up at Target with three students even though it was ten on a Monday night. There were Targets in Dallas; it wasn’t like the stores were a new concept to her, but the Minnesotan fervor for them was something to behold. Toni immediately broke off from them and disappeared into the automotive section, which didn’t make much sense because she didn’t have a car. Shelby and Martha lingered by the clearance racks as Martha held up a series of truly hideous sweaters against Leah’s torso. Even the Salvation Army ringers had gone home for the day, their red kettles abandoned along one wall.

“Would you go talk to her?” Martha asked.

“Me?” Shelby said reluctantly. “To Toni? You sure?”

“Did something happen? You know that night she went with you and Nora to that dinner?”

Shelby inhaled, fingertips digging into palm of her own hand. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been really weird.” She paused. “I heard Grant Stratford was there. That can’t have been easy.”

“No, I reckon it wasn’t.” Wanting to break the tension, Shelby touched Martha's shoulder. "Do you want to go get a muffin?"

The girl continued to watch the spot where Toni had gone for a few seconds, then she nodded. Better muffins than misery. Shelby got them a box full, giving three to Martha and Leah while keeping one for herself, because she knew sooner or later she would need to go find Toni and didn't want to go empty handed. Out of nowhere, the whole muffin gift giving began to make sense in a "here I brought you this, so don't kill me" sort of way. God, it wasn’t the way she wanted to talk to Toni. What was she supposed to say?

"Where do you think she went?" Shelby scanned the mostly deserted warehouse floor.

"The Christmas lights," Martha answered. "She always looks at them when they're out. Even in October."

Shelby hunted for a little while by herself, carrying her recently acquired muffin. Devoid of customers and decorated with more red than communist propaganda, the Target had a lonely, sterile aura. She found Toni alone in the very back behind several displays of artificial decorated trees. That's where the strings and nets of Christmas lights were, an entire wall of shelves filled with boxes, the demonstrations twinkling brightly against the harsh fluorescent light glaring off the linoleum. At first Shelby wasn't sure if Toni knew she was there or not, but the corner of Toni's mouth curved in recognition and she glanced down at the muffin with a raised eyebrow.

"Muffin?" Shelby asked, holding it out to her.

She broke a piece off and they shared it as they watched the shifting colors of a fiber optic Christmas tree. Then they walked along the aisle, Toni seeming to favor the boldness of the LED lights over some of the others. Shelby didn't ask her stupid questions about Grant Stratford, because there wasn’t any point. Instead, she winced as a particularly obnoxious Christmas song came in over the tinny speakers, and she looked up at the ceiling as though that would make it stop. Frowning, Toni followed her gaze until she also sighted the speaker and then she tilted her head, jerking her chin up in agreement.

“I never got this song,” Toni said. “Like why the fuck would you play a drum for a baby?”

Shelby frowned, realizing she’d never thought deeply about the lyrics to “Little Drummer Boy” before. Why was there a kid trying to play a drum for a sleeping infant?

“Right?” Toni said, as Shelby thought it over. “It’s stupid.”

After a few moments, Toni went back to looking at the lights, Shelby not finding them nearly as fascinating as she evidently did. They blinked out of sync with one another, dancing until Shelby felt dizzy.

“Are you excited to go home?” Toni asked.

Shelby half laughed, feeling relieved she could finally say something honest. “No.”

“No? Doesn’t GTW have a big party at your house and everything?”

“I wish I could just spend it alone.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever been alone on Christmas.”

“What about you? Martha said you were spending it with Regan.”

With a quirk of confusion, Toni narrowed her eyes, but then gave her a smile that didn’t feel very friendly. “First of all, that’s not what’s happening. Second of all, are _you_ giving me shit about this?”

Shelby rocked back on her heels, shaking her head as she looked again toward the ceiling.

“I’m spending Christmas with Martha if it’s so important that you have to ask. You know I have fuck all else to go.”

“That’s not what I was trying to say.”

“Then what were you trying to say?”

Shelby shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“This isn’t a choice that I made, Shelby. What the fuck—”

“But you’re free. Don’t you see that? You don’t have to answer to anybody.” 

“And neither do you. Not right now anyway.”

“But I will! The second I get back to Dallas I—” Shelby broke off, registering the fact her voice had ascended to almost yelling.

Shelby didn’t _do_ anger and yet nothing riled her faster than Toni Shalifoe. Shelby finally looked at her, met her eyes and held that contact as though she could pour twenty years of unspoken feeling into it. All she wanted to do was kiss that resigned, frustrated expression off Toni’s face, press her into the shelves of miniature glowing Santa Clauses until they were both breathless, but she couldn’t. There was nothing for it but for her to sigh and fill the awkward silence with another bit of muffin which she chewed and swallowed without tasting it.

“Toni—” Shelby began.

“It’s cool, Shelby,” Toni said with a nod. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, I do. I—”

“Shelby. I get it.”

Pinching the edges of the muffin paper between her fingers, Shelby slowly folded it up into a mushy ball.

“I never know what to call those things,” Toni said. “Like is it a muffin wrapper? A muffin peel?”

“I think it’s called a liner.”

“Personally, I like muffin peel.”

Martha and Leah came and found them later, still standing three feet apart. The crumbs on the floor separating them like a wall.

+o+o

None of the undergrads had been properly working that week. The girls in the clinic simply didn't go at all, but Martha came and took over Toni’s space in the lab. Really she was just taking advantage of the bench to spread her books and notes out and it was a place where she'd be left in relative peace. Shelby, meanwhile, was just as busy, trying to make headway with the antibody assay before she returned to Dallas to work with Quinn and his technician. By Thursday, Martha was obviously feeling the effects of her exams, intermittently falling asleep at Toni’s desk like she'd developed narcolepsy and more than once Shelby had to go and wake her to keep her from tumbling from her chair altogether.

All Shelby wanted to do was ask about Toni, but then she also didn’t want to know anything about Toni and spent long swathes of time sitting with her mouse clutched in a death grip. All week Shelby watched for her, but it looked like Toni had gone the way of the other undergraduates, choosing to finish her studying elsewhere. There were only two days of exams left, and Shelby suddenly started to worry she wouldn't see Toni again before her flight back to Dallas on Saturday. So that afternoon, Shelby texted her.

_Are you coming in today?_

Toni's response was evasive. _to lab?_

_Where else?_

_no_

_Where are you now then?_

_wouldn't you like to know_

_Yes, that's why I asked._

It took almost fifteen minutes, an unheard of reply time for Toni, but she finally gave a very unsatisfactory answer. _don't really have time for this. see you in january._

Shelby held her phone, reading the ten words over and over and feeling such a confused almost nauseous sensation that she barely heard Nora and Martha telling her for the fifth time about the department Christmas party. Despite deadlines and pending exams, the Laboratory Medicine and Pathology part had come round just as it did every year and Nora would not be denied free food and alcohol because some explanation about med school that Shelby mostly ignored.

"Come on, Shelby," Nora begged.

"I'll go if Martha does," Shelby hedged with the sensation that the undergrad would say no given how many pages she still had left in the cell morphology chapter of her textbook. What she was not expecting was for Martha to snap the book shut and say, “Okay.”

"I can’t stay long," Shelby warned with the proviso, "I'm not drinking with you."

“You’re such a Girl Scout,” Nora complained.

“Bronze Award.”

“How did you have time?!”

“You promise you won’t pressure me?”

“I solemnly swear I will not offer you alcoholic beverages.” Nora held up three fingers in salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Girl Scout.”

“Was too! I was in Brownies for two years.”

Shelby should have known it would only make them try harder. The Laboratory Medicine and Pathology Holiday Extravaganza, as it was advertised in very politically correct language, was held in the upstairs ballroom of the University Hotel. Shelby had not yet been to one, having relocated to Minnesota in January, but Nora was very familiar with the ins and outs. Preceding them up the stairs at a light jog, Nora promptly ingratiated herself with the secretaries handing out the drink tickets, both of whom she apparently knew suspiciously well. Irritating that Nora had social skills for purposes of obtaining far more tickets than her allotted quota of two drinks. These she passed surreptitiously to Martha without for an instant breaking flow in her conversation.

Rolling her eyes, Shelby went without them into the ballroom, noting with some surprise that the party was going to be nicer than she'd previously thought. Huge ropes of garland hung from the ceiling, and all of the tables were covered in holly and fir springs, though thankfully not candles since that seemed rather a fire hazard. Leah had already claimed a table with the two nurses, and Shelby went to them. A few seconds later, Nora and Martha came over snickering about something.

“Have you met the new girl in the clinic?” Leah asked Nora.

“You mean the really pale one?” Nora replied.

"I swear she's a vampire. It's like she has to think to herself, 'Oh, this would be an appropriate time to smile.'"

"Not good with social cues," Nora agreed. "But that does not mean she's a vampire."

"She seriously looks like she hasn't seen the sun in weeks."

"We're all kind of vitamin D deficient down in the basement."

"I’ve never seen her outside.”

"I’ve always wondered what would happen to a vampire if you had a UV light. Like does it have to be full spectrum or would UV do it?”

“Or a tanning bed.”

“Oh, that’s good. I didn’t think of that. Okay. After winter break, we put her in a tanning bed.”

Leah scrunched her nose, taking another sip of beer. “How are we going to get her into this tanning bed?”

“Chloroform?”

Bursting out laughing, Leah shook her head. “I was thinking like a trip to Five-dollar Tan and you come up with chloroform. Never change, Nora.”

Leah went to get another drink and an hour after Shelby's prearranged “not long”, she had to admit the others were all fairly intoxicated. She’d given up all her tickets to Leah and Nora, who were definitely tipsy if not drunk. Seemingly in reverse of the night Shelby had first spoken to Toni, Shelby saw her come in the door, evidently looking for Martha because as soon as she saw her, Toni crossed the room and sat down next to her. Snow boots and a plaid shirt like she'd just popped down from a lumber camp in British Columbia. Then, she looked up at Shelby, her eyes so dark everything else was colorless by comparison. Had it really only been ten and a bit months since she met Toni Shalifoe at Tim’s retirement party?

She thought back to the stranger that sat across the table from her that night, the memory of Toni fuzzy at the edges with the tequila that had been pulsing fast and unforgiving from her stomach to her veins. Toni was still that stranger; Shelby could see it in her posture, the way her hand rested idly on the back of her phone. Just ten and a half months, and she might have been a different person. A person who drank vodka and told secrets, who worked long nights and stood by her, because that was the girl Shelby saw in the moment she stopped panicking long enough to look. But that whole train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Rachel Reid, who gave Toni a big hug from behind, wrapping her arms around Toni’s shoulders and squeezing her against the chair.

“What the hell?” Toni said, sounding startled as she twisted to try to see who was squishing her. “Oh my God, Rachel.”

“Not expecting to see me?” Rachel said with a laugh.

Toni prodded herself experimentally in the side. “You don’t normally crack a rib, damn.”

“I asked her to come down,” Nora said. “How many massage appointments were there today?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “So many.”

Martha leaned over the table with interest. “Massage appointments?”

“See, this is why I only do injuries. Sometimes, massage is indicated in the recovery process, right? But every finals we get flooded with little undergrads trying to get ‘medical’ massages for their stress. It’s finals! Everyone is stressed.”

Rachel finally took a seat in between Nora and Shelby.

“Shelby!” Rachel said. “How’s that arm treating you?”

“Fully functional again,” Shelby said, exhibiting her range of motion for the therapist.

“No lingering weakness on that side?”

“None.”

“That is what I like to hear!” Rachel pointed at Toni. “And you, Shalifoe? Don’t think I don’t see you over there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Toni muttered. “Four days a week.”

“Has Nora told you about Quinn?” Martha asked.

Nora’s eyes widened and she slowly scrunched back into her chair as though that would make her disappear into thin air. Meanwhile, Shelby inhaled most of a mouthful of water and had to double over under the table to cough the liquid out of her lungs. Rachel helpfully patted her on the back, but Shelby heard her distinctly go on:

“Who is Quinn?”

“No one!” Nora quavered.

Red faced and tears streaming, Shelby popped back up and looked at Nora sidelong. _Quinn_? Had she been so distracted by everything happening with Toni that she hadn’t noticed Nora connecting with the most awkward man she’d ever met in her life?

“Quinn?” Shelby rasped out. “Like Quinn Miller? GTW Quinn Miller?”

Rachel suppressed another laugh as she glanced between Nora and Shelby. “Okay, tell me more.”

Nora was making a STOP motion behind Rachel’s back, evidently not wanting her sister to know any more about Quinn and there was something about the urgency in the movement that bade Shelby to respect the request. Shelby finally shrugged, ironically drinking a little more water to soothe her coughing from choking on the water in the first place.

“Oh, Rilke’s drunk again,” Toni said jerking her chin in the direction of an alcove where Leah leaned against to the cool frame of the window, looking out at the snowy landscape of Minneapolis, strangely urban and yet dotted with grain silos and rail yards. “I’ll get her.”

Toni got up and walked over to Leah, getting herself between Leah and the glass. She took Leah by the elbows, starting to steer her back to the table, but Leah squirmed away from her and stood with her head tilted all the way back as she gazed up. Above them hung a little cluster of green leaves with berries on.

“Looook,” Leah said.

Toni obliged, going along with it to hurry Leah along. “Yeah, it’s holly or some shit.”

“No, look at it!”

“You know, believe it or not, I’m not a plant biologist.”

“It’s mistletoe!” She threw one arm around Toni’s neck as she started to laugh. “Give me a kiss.”

“No, I don’t think—”

Toni made a strangled noise somewhere between a squeak and a grunt, giving a pointed look at the other members of their company for help as she tried to bodily drag Leah back to the table. The main problem was that Leah had about six or seven inches on her and could not be moved, especially since Toni couldn’t lift her on account of her leg. Shelby was up and out of her chair before she’d even consciously made the decision to do so, crossing the room and taking Leah summarily away from Toni.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Leah said.

Toni’s jaw hung open a fraction from closed as she looked up at Shelby over Leah’s shoulder. Shelby almost, _almost_ said something snarky to Toni about “working her way through the lab” or something, but then remembered that she’d been the one to kiss Toni, and the tight ball of emotion in her abdomen died in a wave of shame. She’d almost pulled away, guiding Leah with a firm grip back to the others, when she felt Toni touch her, whether accidentally or on purpose, she had no idea. She swallowed, meeting Toni’s gaze, the delicate crease between her eyebrows a faint blemish on her skin. Toni’s fingers lingered, just there against the curve of her wrist before she shook her head and walked away.

“You’re cut off,” Shelby said flatly to Leah, then gestured at Toni. “And you! No more mistletoe.”

Martha heartily agreed.


	15. Regan

No, loving a thing does not always mean it can love you back. Sometimes it is incapable, and others, unwilling. She found the seed in a putrid half rotted lemon. The small fuzzy tail of a root protruded from one side of it and though the adults all told her it would die, she tried to nurture it anyway. She went outside and filled a cut pop can with dirt and leaves and put it outside the door to grow. All the summer long, the tiny tree flourished. It grew delicate soft leaves that firmed in the rain and wind. She was so proud of it, researched the husbandry of citrus in the school library. When winter came, she found it a spot in the only south facing window they had. She willed it to live, kept herself from watering it too much. Spent the only money she had on fertilizer to feed this thing she had brought to life. But what match was a lemon for the onslaught of a Minnesota winter? She learned about the shortening days, the angle of the sun. Without more light, the death was slow and inexorable. She cried for days when the last leaf fell and the green in the branches turned black. She should have learned then the danger, but instead she eschewed the knowledge. Ignorance was bliss.

+o+o

“Thanks for driving me,” Toni said.

She had changed from being sixteen. She sat small and upright in the seat, with her shoes placed respectfully on the rubber of the floor mat, not slumped down with her knees braced against the glove box. Maybe, too, not so raw and unrestrained, but then she’d been through a lot since then. She’d aged out. Barely graduated high school. Lost…everything. She had changed from being sixteen and yet there she was, still being driven around in Regan’s old beat-up Chrysler Town and Country listening to jazz renditions of Christmas standards.

“I couldn’t let you come all the way out here in this weather,” Regan said, moving the column shifter to park.

“I could have come on the bus,” Toni replied.

“And it would have taken hours.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They sat in silence for another few seconds before Regan said, “Look. I just want to say sorry again for ambushing you the other night.” 

“That was on Martha.”

“I thought we’d kind of moved past that.”

“We have.” Pressing her lips together, Toni nodded. “You’ve always been fucking decent.”

Regan glanced at her, then turned back to the snowy road. “Martha says you’ve been working a lot.”

“Yeah, there’s some bullshit deadline with this study or whatever. There’s a lot to do.”

A beat of hesitation followed, but Regan accepted the response without further question. Then Regan sighed and said in a rush:

“Are you at least staying safe out there? After that thing with Martha—”

Toni shook her head. “I knew this would fucking happen.”

Holding her hand out, Regan forestalled the rest of Toni’s angry outburst. “Hey.”

“I sat through your lecture last time. I know it was fucking stupid. If Shelby hadn't been there—” Toni broke off and shrugged, jaw working. 

“It’s okay. If you want to talk to me. About Shelby.”

Toni barked out something between a laugh and an exhale. “Not gonna lie, I had a nightmare two nights ago she was making me re-do this PCR. Just like over and over.”

Regan caught her eye.

“She’s straight, Regan. Just leave it alone.”

Putting both hands back on the wheel, Regan nodded. “I just worry about you. You know, with everything.”

“I know this comes as a huge fucking surprise, but my work study is not raking in the cash. I have to get the rest of it somehow.”

“I know. It’s shitty.”

“Yeah."

“How is she doing?”

Looking down into her lap, Toni put her hand into her jacket pocket, almost unconsciously to feel the fold of bills there. “Not good, but we’re almost there.”

“Where is she on the list now?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter does it because there's still ‘insufficient proof’ of money for the maintenance drugs.” For one moment, she did look like that angry abandoned kid again, rage suffusing all the empty neglected places in her like spackle; filler to hide the cracks. “She did it to herself! I don’t know why I fucking care! She’s never been there for me and then all of a fucking sudden…”

Toni’s voice shook to a stop, her chin trembling as her breaths came is short, broken shudders.

“Parents get this weird hold on you, even when they don’t deserve it.”

“I bet she won’t even fucking stay clean after.”

“Hey. Brian has been clean for three years.” Regan reached out, touching Toni’s hand. “People can change.” 

“Yeah, well usually they don’t.”

Toni pulled the interior door handle, getting out and limping a few strides before getting her feet under her enough to climb up the front steps of the house. Regan watched her, thinking on what she’d said about people not changing and she was thankful that whatever had been between them had mellowed into that kinder, quieter thing. Looking over her shoulder, Regan smiled sadly at the back window of the Town and Country. The one Toni smashed in a fit of temper and anguish after they broke up. Not a lot of unbroken 1983 Chrysler glass around, but Toni searched for weeks, found and paid for the replacement because she knew it was the right thing to do. People did change. Toni was living proof.


	16. Chapter 16

When Saturday finally came around, the plan was for Shelby to drive to the airport and leave her car there for the duration. That plan went to hell and a hand basket when Shelby checked the weather and realized it was going to snow heavily all day. Not enough to disrupt operations at MSP, but certainly enough to make driving too difficult for her to do it on her own. How the airport managed to keep the outgoing flights relatively on time, Shelby didn’t know. She hesitated for a long time, but in the end, she persuaded herself it was only out of necessity, desperation really, that she texted Toni. Shelby half expected her to decline, or at least, to argue, but she got back a terse _sure_. When Shelby went to answer the knock on the door, Toni’s back was completely turned as she admired yet another wreath wrapped in its own scarf. 

“I need to meet this guy,” Toni commented to the hallway at large.

Her dark clothes were sharp against the beige of the opposite door, snow settled on her jacket and boots. She came in shedding little drifts onto the floor and walked straight across to the terrace to assess the swirling white that blotted out the river and the bank beyond.

“Thanks for coming,” Shelby said quickly.

Toni merely nodded, returning her gaze to the snow.

“You can keep my car if you want. Over the holiday.”

“Yeah, no. Even I’m not getting there in this.”

“How’d you get here then?”

“The train.” Toni regarded her. “Ready for some public transit, princess?”

“I’ve never been that way. I don’t have time to get lost now.”

Shrugging, Toni wandered back to the kitchen. “I’ll come with you I guess.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You texted me to help, so either we go to the airport or I go back to the dorm. Pick one.”

Eventually, Shelby relented, because they didn't really have time to argue. To be fair, Shelby could have just changed her flight, but Toni insisted the light rail was a rite of passage. Everyone who lived in Minneapolis should take it at least once to the airport, not that Toni had ever been on a plane or out of Minnesota in general. Once Shelby's two enormous suitcases were piled up by her door Toni gave her a once over worthy of a crazy person.

“Are you ever coming back?” Toni asked.

“I won't if you don't stop complaining,” Shelby retorted.

She ran around the apartment twice more, frantically checking to see if she had everything or not, stopping at the window repeatedly to glare out at the snow. When she turned back to Toni, the girl was holding something behind her back, an expectant look on her face.

“What?” said Shelby.

Toni produced a bottle of vodka and set it on the island. It was Death's Door.

“I’m not telling you any more secrets,” Shelby said.

At that, Toni actually laughed, the angle of her head so cocky and beautiful. She had to stop being so wonderful. Immediately. Otherwise, how the hell was she supposed to get over the warm tight feeling that overcame her every time Toni entered a room? She wanted—it didn’t matter what she wanted. She had a plane to catch.

Helping Shelby with her bags turned out to be an adventure, because the larger of the two suitcases likely weighed more than either of them and they had to manhandle it into the elevator together like they were moving a body. Fortunately, by the time they reached the lobby a Lyft was waiting to take them to the Warehouse District rail platform, but even the driver's eyes bulged in surprise as he tried to pick the damn thing up. Shelby listened to Toni's specific instructions about where he was supposed to leave them, and once they were situated on the covered platform watching the snow fall, Toni leaned out, her eyes following the tracks into downtown.

“How long is your trip?” Toni asked, making little patterns in the snow with the toes of her shoes.

“Two weeks,” Shelby replied. “Are you going back ‘up north’ or however you say it?”

Toni shrugged, but then she added, “Not for long.”

“Maybe someday you’ll get the chance to fly to Texas.”

“Maybe.”

That was all Shelby got out of her before the train arrived, and Toni and Shelby dragged her suitcases on board for the half hour journey to the airport. They situated themselves in seats facing one another, Shelby’s luggage arranged between them with Toni’s right knee propped up on the larger of the two.

“That thing with Rilke,” Toni said suddenly.

“That’s your business,” Shelby replied.

“She was trashed.”

“Not any of my bus—”

“And I’m not seeing Regan. I mean, I see Regan, but it’s not—” She exhaled briskly. “It’s not like that.”

Shelby nodded, unable to say anything in response. They rode the rest of the way in silence. For public transit, the light rail could have been worse. It ran parallel to a highway called Hiawatha, everything stark and white for miles before descending into a tunnel. The train platform at MSP was deep underground and cold, requiring a trip in an elevator and a short period on a tram. The airport practically hummed with activity, thousands of people rushing about trying to get various places for the holiday. All except Toni, who went solely for Shelby's sake.

They stood gripping the same pole on the little tram as it took off toward the main terminal, packed so close together that Shelby could smell the sharp citrus of Toni's soap beneath the cold and her own fear, at once effervescent and musky. Toni smirked, nodding at a little red placard above them on the wall. It read _Curves. Please hold on_. She tried to smile, but there was no mirth or joy in it. Just sadness at the irony, because despite Toni’s lean wiriness Shelby could readily identify at least six curves she’d love to hold onto. The other travelers around them disembarked en masse as the tram arrived, and soon Shelby found herself alone with a suitcase, Toni already standing outside the door. They checked Shelby's luggage in and Toni lingered there with Shelby near security, a still life amongst the throng as they said their goodbyes.

“Be safe,” Shelby said, bottling everything tightly inside. “Merry Christmas.”

Toni nodded and Shelby knew she should try to thank her or hug her or reassure her in some small insufficient way, but she just stood there, motionless. Trying to explain without words. Wishing into the universe that things could be different, could be anything but. It didn’t matter that her fingers itched with the feel of Toni’s skin. That if she had wanted to tangle her hand in Toni’s hair and kiss her all heat and soft lips, that Toni might have trembled and let her. Rules. At long last they were familiar and confining. When they left her chafed, empty and wanting, she knew she should be grateful if they restrained her to her purpose. And just as quickly the moment was over, Shelby bound like Sisyphus, bound to labor, suffer and repeat. Tethered to the spot as Toni withdrew, already walking away backward. She turned and the last Shelby saw of Toni was the back of her head as she vanished down an escalator.

How long Shelby stood there, hyperventilating and impotent, she didn’t know. She might have rooted to the spot, still have been standing there a millennia later to discover vines had grown round her legs if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of an elderly couple that accidently bumped her. True to Minnesotan nicety they were both profusely apologetic, wishing her a pleasant journey after her initial totally reflexive exclamation of, “Sorry. My fault.”

She went through security in a haze, the agent having to ask twice for her driver’s license and Shelby searching through her handbag for it to only realize she was actually holding the stupid thing in her other hand. Stuffing the stupid little plastic card back into its pocket, she finished being screened for incendiary devices and walked down to her gate like she was a painting from the surrealist movement come to life. God, why hadn’t she done… _anything_? It was becoming incredibly confused in her mind. That was the way it had to be. It had to be that way. And that's what she repeated to herself over and over again for three solid hours as she crossed the Midwest.

By the time Shelby reached Dallas-Fort Worth, she'd calmed considerably. It didn’t matter. The whole thing with Toni was hardly worth the Big Fucking Deal she was somehow making it. Because the feelings of a girl she worked with did not matter. As she drew nearer and nearer to setting foot on Texan soil the more unforgiving and brutal the demand for self-preservation became. In her distraction, she neglected to check her phone until she was out of baggage claim, not sure if her mother had come for her or if they’d gone for the simple expedient of sending one of the company cars. Instead, she got the worst thing she could think of under the circumstances. Jobeth or Dave she could have smiled at and fobbed off, but oh, no. Too easy. Fate had given her Dorothy Campbell.

The terminal where she'd landed at DFW had a bit of interesting architecture, having been done with a high arching roof and lots of glass. Thus, the lovely slanting afternoon sun was bright on the collar of Dot’s starched shirt as she waited there with an annoyingly happy smile, arms spread wide to embrace Shelby.

“I have to hand it to you,” Dot said, taking in Shelby’s assorted luggage. “You are the only person who might actually make Fatin look like a light packer.”

“What are you doing here?” Shelby asked.

“Like I was going to let some rando come and pick you up?” Dot laughed at Shelby’s skeptical look, admitting, “Okay, and I also got to skip a meeting with the Chicago office.”

“Always thinking of others.”

“So where are we going?”

“To mine, I guess.”

“Not staying with your parents over the holiday?”

“No, they throw that party and I’d just as soon not try to sleep in the house while that’s going on.”

“That party is fire,” Dot deadpanned, and then grinned.

“You and Fatin planning on being there to keep me company?”

“Hell, yeah.”

After some additional wrestling with suitcases, Shelby and Dot went off to find the lawyer’s car. Shelby sat in the passenger seat, silent, as they drove to the east en route to Shelby's house in North Dallas. It wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination; no, she left that kind of opulence to her parents. They were somewhere around the junction of 635 and 35E when Dot finally cracked.

"So?" Dot said.

"So what?” Shelby asked, slightly bewildered.

“We’ve been in this car ten whole minutes and you haven’t said anything.”

Shelby shook her head slightly. “Sorry. Must be all the work and everything catching up with me. I’m exhausted.”

Drumming her fingers on the wheel slowly, Dot glanced at her profile. “Shelbs, come on. Talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me since I came up to Minnesota.”

Shelby bristled, at once on the defensive. “Nothing is going on, okay? There’s been a lot of work and not a lot of time. You know how it is, don’t take it personally.”

“You know you can trust me, right? I think we both know what is happening here.”

“Do we?” Shelby cut across her. “Explain to me, because I don’t think I understand.”

Dot’s face drew down in a serious, concerned frown. “Please don’t make me do this. Shelby—”

“That is not who I am. I know _exactly_ who I am.”

“There’s no good way to say this. You need—”

“No—”

“You _need_ to talk about it, Shelby! It’s not fucking 1920. The world does not operate on those fucked up bizarre expectations anymore.”

“The second I give in, I will be alone!”

A tense, pained quiet resumed in the interior of the car. Only the hum of the engine filled the chasm of space that existed between them.

“I’d never leave you alone,” Dot said with such unambiguous finality that Shelby didn’t argue further.

A dark, mottled blush crept up Shelby's neck as they pulled up at the curb outside Shelby's house. Shelby sat for a long time without speaking or moving, then finally left the vehicle in a huff, shutting the door with delicate precision. Dot followed a second later, resting her arms on the roof of the car as she looked at Shelby with sad eyes.

“Shelby,” Dot began, but Shelby calmly walked around the front of the car, staring at Dot with an uncomfortable intensity.

“Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Fatin,” Shelby said softly.

Dot nodded, swallowing hard in remembrance and recognition. Just how scared and alone must Shelby have felt? She jumped when Shelby's front door shut, realizing with an exasperated sigh that she still had a mountain of luggage in her trunk. For several seconds, she gazed up at the door, but then unloaded the suitcases and carried them up steps, leaving them there for Shelby to get later.

+o+o

Shelby paced inside her bedroom, which had been recently cleaned by the smell of it, no doubt someone sent over by her mother in her absence. Her house was not overtly large, though larger than her apartment in Minneapolis, and purchased when she was too young and self-absorbed to understand she'd chosen a pretentious location for a dwelling. Dot's response at the time had been a mildly exasperated, "Really, Shelby?" But it didn't change the fact she owned the place and she still liked it. Her favorite part of it was the open plan first floor. Just then, however, she repudiated its airiness for the confinement of her bedroom. It limited her movement; it defined her boundaries. She obsessively checked her phone, looking to see if she had any new messages, but of course, she didn't.

So she paced, completely torn over whether she did or didn't want to get a text from Toni. Her inclination went through several phases, yet in the end, the result was always the same. She'd lay her phone down again and take another turn around the room until she was dizzy and exhausted from her circling. It wasn't just the kiss, no, it just had to be even more complicated than that. A little detail she forgot about more and more often where Toni was concerned, that rendered the kiss that was not a Big Fucking Deal a Huge Fucking Problem. All she could do was pray no one had seen. _No one_ could know that it happened. She was on the verge of being tired enough to sleep when she got a text from Jobeth.

_Looking forward to seeing you for church! Pick you up at 7:30._

Collapsing on her bed, she screamed into her pillow like a lunatic until her throat was raw, all her anger distilling into a profound nameless desolation. It took her a long time, but she eventually fell into a fitful slumber. She slept the restless sleep of the emotionally drained and dragged herself out of bed at 6am. Unlike Minnesota which was frigid and covered in snow, Dallas was warm enough to afford her dry, safe ground and a place to run. She dug out her gear from her suitcase and put it on, not lingering in her front room as she usually did to stretch. Just set her watch and went, running dogged at nearly a dead sprint for mile after mile. She was fast, always had been. If her daddy had let her, she might have run cross country or distance, but track and field was not a noble pursuit for a young lady. She was meant to be _fit_ not athletic. Her lungs burned and her calves ached, yet it was the only thing that had made her feel better for weeks. A treadmill was no replacement for feeling the concrete under the soles of her shoes, the cold air on her damp skin as her sweat beaded and coalesced in rivulets down her spine.

She stopped dead at the end of her block, winded but not blind. There in her driveway she could see her father’s truck, lights still on. Confused, she glanced down at her watch and realized she’d been running much longer than she thought, lost in the cleansing, numbing repetition of each stride. Her legs unwilling, she walked slowly back to the house, only making the pretense of a jog as she drew close enough for Jobeth to spot her through the pickup’s window.

“Shelby!” she cried, jumping out.

She started to give Shelby a hug, but seemed to think better of it as Shelby was soaked through with perspiration. She sloppily wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, the other hand on her hip as she looked through the darkness for her father. He came around the bed of the truck with his phone still against his ear, gesturing at her with some asperity. Then he saw her out of breath and fresh from her run and grinned. Gathering her up sweat and all, he picked her up off the ground as he hugged her. At least he’d done that. Her mother seemed to be missing the whole point she was seeing her oldest daughter for the first time in almost a year and not a soggy stranger off the street.

“Good hustle, kid, but we’re going to be late,” Dave said.

“Sorry,” Shelby panted. “I lost track of time.”

“Well, go on and get changed. Be quick!”

Dave smoothed the front of his suit jacket, gently snugging his tie against his throat as he gave Shelby an odd smile that was as much indulgence as disapproval. Ducking her head, she trotted past him, already trying to fish her house key out of the zippered pocket in her leggings. No time for washing her hair; all the conditioning, combing, and drying was forty-minute job all by itself. So, she did what she could, tying the mess up and rinsing the salt from her skin in water so hot it almost scalded. She was back down in a quarter of an hour, makeup barely seen to, mascara smudged and her dress sticking to her where she hadn’t quite dried. She jumped into the backseat of the cab, relying on pure muscle rather than climb up on the running board as her mother did.

“That’s my girl,” said Dave, smiling at her in the rearview mirror.

She smiled back, but when she caught a glimpse of herself, she saw plainly the silver of the cross against her collarbone in a flash of light. Nothing behind her green eyes but hollowness. Pretty and shallow. All she could feel was that plastered on smile, etched into her flesh from one side of her jaw to the other.

“Where are Spencer and Melody?” Shelby asked, a little confused to find herself alone on the leather bench with no siblings vying with her for space.

“No getting them out of bed at this hour,” Jobeth replied.

“ _Late_ service,” Dave said meaningfully. “Let us hope they grow out of that phase.”

There were a number of massive megachurches in Dallas big enough that the pastor had to be broadcast by projector in order to be seen by the parishioners in the back rows. The modern frigidness of it had always turned Shelby away, made her feel less close to God than an honest chapel that paid homage to traditional touches like wooden pews and stained glass. She could see the spire of the steeple long before she could see the building itself, painted white with the slant of the morning sun reflecting off the glossy face of the clock in the tower. There was something comforting in the familiarity of it, the beauty of coming home. Her impromptu exercise session luckily made them late enough that she didn’t have to spend any time making nice with members of the congregation once they arrived.

She took her seat with her parents in their usual pew, above her painted across the rafters the words _I am the way, the truth, and the life: No man cometh unto the Father, but by me._ Stretching toward the ceiling, the silver pipes of the organ flanked a pastoral of Christ in prayer, surrounded by a herd of sheep. When the opening hymn began, Shelby’s voice shook with hoarseness, the recompense of her screaming fruitlessly in pique and helplessness. Her mother glanced at her, unaccustomed, and after the second verse, produced a lozenge which she gave to Shelby with a motherly pat on the hand.

That was when she saw him. Kyle. Still big with a linebacker’s build, standing head and shoulders over the women surrounding him. She recognized him at once despite all the intervening years, his desperate face imprinted like a tattoo in the back of her mind. The tears streaming down his cheeks while he told the group he didn’t want “to be this way” that he “wanted to go with God.” In the present, he smiled down at that girl from Houston he’d married and there was something about that smile that she knew well, empty, vacant. A specter behind the eyes. They were all wretched pathetic creatures, guilty and shrinking in God’s sight.

+o+o

While she’d counted herself fortunate to not have to make nice before the service, the fellowship hour that followed was impossible to avoid. It took place in the great hall, an open area flooded with light. The tables were decorated festively, sprays of holly and pine nestled between the cakes and silver coffee urns. Most of the people she met were old family friend that asked the same questions and told her similar stories about their children or siblings or parents. By the end of the first half hour, she wanted to hang a sign around her neck like a prize steer to avoid repeating the same series of sentences over and over with a clenched tooth smile bigger than Texas. Or if not a sign then small brochures with an abbreviated version of her curriculum vitae. Hell, she would have settled for a Tinder bio.

_Shelby, 26_

_Pre-Doctoral Fellow, Baylor College of Medicine (Thesis: Viral Dynamics of Primary Epstein-Barr Virus)_

_Bachelor of Science, University of Texas at Dallas_

_2 feet away_

_Last active 1 minute ago_

_Hobbies: Running. Self-loathing. Plague, Inc._

_Single. Former Miss Texas Teen. Looking for love in all the wrong places. Want to learn about mono?_

Shelby was trying to think of something wittier to say with her 500-character limit when her mother nudged her. She leaned over and said confidentially:

“Oh, heaven help us. Don’t look now.”

Why was it, that people told you “don’t look” when clearly all you were going to promptly do was, you know, look? Shelby managed to check herself in the act of turning her head, almost giving herself whiplash in the movement, instead freezing and swiveling her eyes to her left. In the doorway stood her father’s mother, a small woman in her seventies with hair big enough for an ‘80s metal band. She smiled at Shelby and Jobeth from across the room, waving furiously as she stuffed something into her giant handbag. They hugged and Shelby had to admit Darlene was the first person she’d actually been happy to see since she got back to Texas.

“Darlin’, I have been dying to see you,” Darlene drawled. “Why’d you have to move so far away?”

“Getting my education,” Shelby replied, letting Darlene hold her hands between them.

“And look at your nails! We have got to do something about these.”

She looked down at her fingers. Her cuticles were definitely neglected and needed seeing to, but her nails themselves were short and smooth, necessitated by the gloving and washing regimen of her profession. Acrylic nails destroyed nitrile gloves and her natural nails grew too soft encased all day in their damp prison to keep long; they inevitably tore or broke. Other years she’d looked forward to it, or at least allowed it, Darlene taking Melody with them to have their nails done with glitter and tiny Christmas trees. Shelby remembered Kyle suddenly and her whole being rebelled against it, haunted by that glassy look in his eyes. So naturally she smiled his soulless smile and nodded, consenting to have it done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the science is dense and boring, but thank you to all the readers out there. Your support has been really overwhelming and I'm grateful to be sharing this story with you.


	17. Chapter 17

The following morning Shelby went to GTW. It was Monday, the only workday of Christmas week by the GoodkindTaylorWise holiday calendar. The headquarters was a massive building in downtown Dallas, its extensive reflective glass giving the edifice the appearance it had been wrapped in aluminum foil by an ill-advised architect. She’d had to call for a car since her own was up in Minneapolis. The black SUV dropped Shelby at the main entrance, and she remembered why it had taken four outfits for her to finally decide what to wear. Industry was distinct from academia. Her lab facilities at the University of Minnesota were some of the worst she'd ever used, with finishes that were modern back in 1982. Anyone could enter them without identification or official business of any kind. Walking into GTW Pharma, by contrast, was like visiting a high security prison with a large decorating budget.

Shelby clipped her microchipped identification card to the lapel of her jacket, smiling brilliantly at the receptionists as she swept in. The Goodkind family still held a _de facto_ controlling interest in the firm. All of the welcome staff would be trained to know her face, even if they had never met her before. A tiny woman with ginger hair and a personality that shouldn't have fit in her petite frame popped up immediately.

"Good morning, Miss Goodkind," she trilled. "My name is Fiona. May I offer you a beverage?"

"Thank you, but no," Shelby said. "I'm trying to get to the research and development labs. Doctor Miller should be expecting me."

"Yes, of course." Fiona glanced around before approaching Shelby and quietly muttering, "Your father specifically requested a meeting when you arrived. He should be waiting in his office."

Fiona made the word "meeting" sound more like "audience" like Dave was the newly crowned emperor of Texas. It irritated her even more that Fiona had also called Dave "your father" rather than using more neutral verbiage like Mr. Goodkind or even Executive Officer Goodkind. Instead, Shelby got a menacing "your father" like she was six years old and was about to be punished for her pushing another kid on the playground. Struggling to compose herself, Shelby suddenly found she was incredibly thirsty.

"Actually, a tea would be great, thanks."

She waited in the main receiving area while Fiona fetched the tea. The atrium was a wide space, shooting up five floors, with a larger than life three-dimensional rendering of GTW's trademark double helix logo spiraling up to the ceiling beside the wide slope of copper plated stairs. Everything, though, had come at great expense. All the surfaces were wood or stone or metal, the chairs were leather, and even the hangings on the walls came from prominent modern artists. If anything, her time away from GTW had given her perspective. She still liked the slick shiny things money afforded her. She missed its ease, and the smell of expensive espresso on days she drank cheap drip coffee. Some days she missed her house in Dallas and being called Miss Goodkind with respect, but it was all an illusion anyway, brought about through the power of her name.

Twenty minutes later Shelby was sitting outside her father's office. Across from her, a trim woman in a blue suit typed away industriously. Helen had been Dave's personal assistant since Shelby was a child, and she continued to be as charismatic and efficient as ever. Sometimes Shelby thought it a bit weird that this woman who managed his calendar, literally scheduling family events into his day, facilitated so many of her interactions with her own father.

She could practically see the spot where she was virtually penciled in on Helen's iPad for the morning of December 23rd, as though Dave knew she would come to headquarters to see Quinn. There was another spot labelled Christmas party, followed by a string of charity events Dave was planning to attend on Christmas day to spread goodwill toward GTW's maligned public persona. That was Dave, though. The good of the firm came first. Helen was on a call with someone very important sounding, so she was left to her own devices. Naturally her hand strayed to her phone, and without thinking she wrote out a text.

_About to go into the lion's den. Wish me luck?_

Then her heart just about stopped, because she realized she wanted to send it to Toni. They'd never even talked about her dad. It wasn't a preferred light chat subject of Shelby's. When had Toni become the person she wanted to reassure her? When had Toni become the person she went to for comfort? That kiss, that stupid kiss was ruining everything. It confused her so much and filled her with so many furtive unnamed desires that she didn't even know what it meant. The desire to have a single line from Toni, a single line to bolster her as she went to see her father. Fatin could have given her a motivational speech and it wouldn't have meant as much as an acerbic _good luck_ would from the Minnesotan who much too far away from her.

Shelby wasn't expecting it when Dave emerged from his office with all the composure of Vercingetorix before the Romans, the tailored cut of his suit tight across his shoulders. He ushered out a sweaty man in a sweater who looked like he might faint. Helen intercepted him with practiced grace, offering him a bottle of water to ease his journey home. For a moment, Shelby's eyes followed him, then she got to her feet and her father put his hands on her shoulders, hugging her with a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. God, the last person to kiss her was Toni Shalifoe. Shelby must have had an expression to rival a deer standing in the headlights of a Ford pickup because her father _actually_ seemed a tiny bit concerned for a second, but just a second.

"Shelby," Dave said. “How are you, sweetheart?”

Shelby just smiled wanly. "Hi, Daddy."

"Come into my office."

Shelby followed him in, taking the chair opposite his desk like she was about to interview for a job on the research team. Dave's office was a large one, with full-length windows overlooking the bit of greenery that was Belo Garden. Or in summer it was green, as the deciduous trees had all dropped their leaves for the winter. Shelby'd read once somewhere that people were happier if they could see trees from their windows; in that case Dave should have been one of the happiest executives in a five-mile radius, but Shelby didn't feel much ebullience rolling off him.

"Shelby, how's your project?" Dave asked.

“Fine,” Shelby replied.

“All well in up in your lab in Minnesota?”

She nodded dutifully.

“Good. You here to see Quinn?”

She nodded again, waiting for him to pronounce judgement on her and let her go to R&D with his blessing. He scrutinized her though, leaning back against his desk.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Biting her lip, Shelby gazed up at him a moment before saying carefully, “I don’t understand why you had to sponsor the trial.”

“The board and I saw a financial opportunity. It wasn’t anything personal.”

"It should have been mine to lose, then.”

"The conflict of interest is not a problem. I talked to Alan about this—”

“The conflict of interest is _still_ a conflict of interest. The policy on COI is so to the letter clinical trials are closed to people who know GTW employees. Yet here the company is funding this trial.”

"We compensate doctors on our trials all the time.”

"I'm a student, Daddy. I need to publish to finish my doctorate."

"Shelby, you've already published—"

"In PLoS One, an archive journal with an impact factor of three. The vaccine is the only decent thing I've ever worked on and now I'm going to have to declare competing interests.”

"Until you calm down and think about who you’re speaking to, I think it’s best if we don’t talk about this anymore.”

Her father gestured for the door and Shelby knew she had been dismissed.

“I expect to see you tomorrow night at seven sharp,” he told her.

Thoroughly disgusted with him and with herself, she gathered up her things and went to R&D.

+o+o

Maybe it should have been ironic that the first place Shelby wanted to go after her consultation with her father was the lab, but it felt safe and concrete in its protocols and sterility. Politics were always shifting, and paradigms in science shifted, too, but like rivers cutting deep canyons, not wind whipping clouds across the horizon. She'd never wanted science for herself. That had been Dave's pressure. Shelby was shrugging out of her outside jacket and donning a starched white lab coat as Quinn’s head bobbed into view. His bright smile consoled her a little as he came over and happily shook her hand.

"Shelby not on vacation yet, I see," he enthused. "Couldn't keep you away from the lab?"

"Morning," Shelby said though her own smile was strained. "You said you'd have a technician for me?"

"I do, but he's not here at the moment. His name is Niko, a post baccalaureate from Australia. Very smart, though without much formal training."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. When's he back?"

"I can have him meet you on the twenty-sixth, if you're keen."

Shelby waved off his offer. "No, let the poor man have a day off. If he could meet me the twenty-seventh, though? I know it's a company holiday, but I don't have much time before I fly back to Minnesota."

"Say no more. I'll just tell him he has a very beautiful young woman eager for his company."

Shelby raised her eyebrows at his blatant flattery and then had to laugh. It was so easy. Just to slip into some façade of being normal, relying on assumptions to pave the way. She didn’t have to say anything, the conclusion was presupposed. Quinn led her into his vaccine team's research and development lab, and once again she was blown away by the difference in her surroundings.

Nothing was dirty. There were _windows_ and Shelby was given a positively extravagant bench space in the corner of Quinn’s lab with a splendid view of west Dallas. There was hardly anybody in the lab itself as most had already left on vacation, but Quinn spent the next hour familiarizing her with the stock rooms and the types of reagents she should have readily available. If there was anything, literally just about anything, she wanted, all she had to do was inform his lab manager and the item would be in her hands in twenty-four hours or less.

It was beautiful and luxurious but it was fed by so many things that Shelby cringed and felt conflicted about. Was she working trying to come back to it or was she working trying to escape it? To trade near bottomless funding for peace of mind or the simplicity of knowing that her reagents budget didn't come from people who had to choose between paying or dying. Suddenly, incredibly fiercely, Shelby wished she could see Toni. She could easily imagine the undergrad sitting up on the bench with her iPad on her knee, eyes trained on the city in its gray winter cloak. Toni would know what to do, what to tell her, probably by doing and saying things she shouldn’t.

+o+o

That night she had a nonsensical dream about Toni involving basketball and Kermy the stuffed frog. They were playing some game that she didn’t understand the rules to, but then their silly competition faded into something else. She was on her knees and Toni was behind her, breath was hot against her neck, hands on her waist. Nails on her ribs, fingers sliding down, dipping, there between her legs to touch. She woke up in the middle of it, incredibly wet with her own hand beneath her. She ached, it wouldn’t have taken much at all to just fucking _finish_ it, find release with a few strokes as she imagined Toni bringing her to—

With a prodigious effort she kicked off her blankets. She deliberately wiped her slick fingertips on the curve of her hip, angry at both herself and the senseless feral urge to come. She was better than that stubborn instinct, better than her hormones, because if she relented to it then her weakness would win. It would be made tangible. Instead, she ran.

Christmas Eve was supposed to ferry in some kind of earth ending weather event and there was a chance parts of Texas would actually have a white Christmas. In Dallas, it pissed down rain, hovering just above freezing while those in more northern climes were battered by gale force winds. She was soaked and shivering by the time she was ragged enough to quit, teeth chattering and skin numbed by the storm. Once she showered, she laid in bed again for a few minutes. It was nice, for that little bit to listen to wet sounds of traffic in puddles and not think very hard about anything. But the not thinking about anything didn't last very long. How could it? Christmas Eve was the night of another Goodkind Christmas Eve party.

Shelby went early to her parents' enormous house in North Dallas arriving at almost at the exact same moment as Fatin and Dot, as though by clockwork. Cars were already filling the driveway and surrounding lawn. Warily, Shelby looked over at Fatin who was clutching a bottle of wine like a flask of holy water at an exorcism, but Dot was in the middle of asking her what the hell she intended to do with it because the Goodkinds didn’t drink. The three all gazed up at the brickwork of the house, hesitating on the concrete drive.

"I'll give you fifty bucks if you ring the bell and run away," Fatin said.

"Are you trying taking advantage of my student debt?" Dot replied, with a raised eyebrow. “Because I might actually do that.”

“Okay, let’s see it.”

“No way. Show me the money first.”

“Are y’all serious right now?” Shelby asked.

Fatin grinned. "I need to get my entertainment somehow.”

Noticing Shelby joining them, Dot looked at her and gave her a slight, acknowledging nod. The meaning was implicit: they could talk later if they needed to, not in front of Fatin. Shelby led the way up to the front door, and opened it for them, surprised to see her brother just on the other side. Spencer had an apron on over his shirt and tie, but his joy at seeing her could have lit the neighborhood. He’d grown from the irritating kid he’d once been and had turned into a handsome guy.

"Shelbykins!" he boomed, sweeping her into a hug so tight he lifted her off the ground.

"Hi, Spence," Shelby whispered, barely able to get the words out her ribs were being compressed so tightly.

"I've missed you, girl."

A muffled reply came somewhere from the region of Spencer’s chest, but Shelby eventually gave up trying to say anything as the hug dragged on for a painfully long time before he released her.

"Good to see you, too," Shelby murmured, her eyes wide as she looked round at Dot.

"And you two," said Spencer, extending his arms.

Dot embraced him willingly, putting up with his commentary on her outfit. The surprise came when hugged Fatin as well. Her squeak echoed off the walls in the entrance hall as Spencer crushed her close, the bottle of wine trapped between them along with Fatin's arms. Dot bit her lip to keep from laughing at the look of shocked dismay Fatin cast her over her own shoulder. Giving Spencer a tight-lipped smile at the conclusion of the hug, Fatin nodded briskly before following the others into the house.

The house was a multi-million dollar affair, the interior bright and modern looking. Solicitously taking their coats, Spencer hung them in a small closet. He ushered them into another room, where Melody and her most recent boyfriend were sitting on a ridiculous white sofa by the fire when they entered. Grinning, she jumped up from the sofa, her dress sparkling with a flash of sequins and red silk.

"This is a first," Melody said, hugging her. "Shelby with no Andrew on her arm."

"For a while there it was broken," Shelby said.

Melody looked down at her, studying her arm. "It's not broken now, is it?

"No, I broke it last winter. I was in a sling for ages."

It conjured the memory of Toni reaching for her, and Shelby was momentarily lost in it as Melody greeted Dot and Fatin. Somewhere during the introductions, Melody’s boyfriend said what his name was but Shelby almost immediately purged the information from her memory banks; she wouldn't need it three days hence.

Apparently so had Fatin because Shelby overheard her say in an undertone to Dot, "What the fuck's his name again?"

"I'm calling him Forty-one."

Fatin snorted. "Is he really number forty-one?"

"No idea."

Their reasonably pleasant catching up was interrupted by the appearance of Darlene.

“Merry Christmas all you party people!” Darlene cried, and she stopped in front of Dot. “Dorothy Campbell, is that you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dot replied.

“You look lovely not all trapped in that lawyer get up. You’ve grown up so nice.”

Shelby laughed in spite of herself; Darlene was good at speaking the truth.

“And who is this?” Darlene asked, placing her wrinkled hand on Fatin’s shoulder. “I’m Darlene Goodkind, darlin’. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Fatin Jadmani,” Fatin told her. “I’m contracting as an epidemiologist for GTW.”

“Another one of Shelby’s friends?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re a friend of mine.” Darlene looked around. “Shelby, I think you have a visitor.”

There in the foyer was indeed her ex-boyfriend and his insufferable mother. With a sense of objective detachment, Shelby felt herself judging him. He was reasonably tall, since she was in the mindset for Tinder bios recently. Not 6’2”, but reasonable. That was literally all he had going for him. Maryann waved at them from across the carpet and Andrew finally noticed Shelby looking at him rather dispassionately. Grabbing Andrew by the sleeve of his jacket, Maryann practically dragged him up to Darlene and Shelby.

“Well, good morning!” she cried, air kissing first Darlene and then Shelby. “Merry Christmas to you both.” She smacked Andrew’s arm like he was ten years old. “Say hello Andrew.”

“Misses Goodkind,” Andrew said quickly. “Shelby.”

“Andrew,” Shelby replied, crossing her arms.

“Fancy running into you two here,” Maryann went on.

Shelby only just managed to suppress a massive eyeroll.

“We love this little party of yours! One of our favorites every year, isn’t it, Andrew?”

In the corner, Dot and Fatin were whispering to one another, Fatin’s eyes wide and dismayed, while Dot’s slight frown conveyed she actually doubted Shelby’s ability to fend Andrew off for the fiftieth time. That bothered her, and she decided to nip it in the bud. It didn’t take Shelby any additional time with Maryann and Andrew to see exactly the direction of the conversation. Shelby and Andrew were such an on-again, off-again staple over the past ten years that of course Maryann thought the natural conclusion was that they’d make up yet again. Maryann prodded Andrew again, clearing her throat slightly.

“How’ve you been Shelby?” Andrew asked.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Shelby replied.

“Oh, that.” Andrew rubbed the back of his head with one hand. “We split up.”

“That’s too bad. She looked nice.”

“So, uh. Nice Christmas Eve party.”

“Yep.”

Andrew quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to at least give him something more to work with, but Shelby was so far past the point of trying to make light conversation to keep from hurting his feelings she just shrugged in abject defeat. The thought of having to cozy up to him and play her role in their Nativity nauseated her. As far as she was concerned, the word “no” was a complete sentence.

“It was good to see you, Andrew,” Shelby said, effectively ending the conversation. “Hope y’all have a blessed Christmas.”

Once the pair decamped, Darlene said to her confidentially, “I never liked that boy. He never gave me that good feeling.”

“Me either,” Shelby agreed.

“Now I don’t know about y’all, but I am hungry! How about we get some food?”

Darlene toddled out of the room and Fatin stood up next to Shelby whispering, “Your grandmother is a treasure.”

“One of the few nice things about this family,” Shelby muttered.

Following Darlene out to where the caterers started to lay the food, Shelby rolled her eyes at the spread. Ice sculptures melted gracefully into pools of punch. Sculptures of kale rose in the center of the tables, studded with fruit and flowers. It looked ridiculous. She was in the middle of helping her grandmother, when she saw him sitting along a bank of windows, an untouched cup of punch in front of him on the table. Kyle was nervously wiping his palms on the knees of his trousers, glancing about the room, when his gaze met hers. Her heart dropped and she looked away at once, unable to bear the ghost of him waiting there alone, but she felt him continuing to look her direction between the moving bodies and leafy topiaries. Shelby tried to steer her away once they reached the end of the serving line, but Darlene spotted Kyle and pointed toward him.

“I think there’s a gentleman over there that could use our companionship,” Darlene said.

She made a beeline for him, leaving Shelby holding both Darlene’s plate and her own, slowly exhaling in an act of resignation.

“Good evening, young man,” Darlene said. “Mind if we sit with you?”

He blinked up at her stupidly for a second, not seeming to realize she was talking to him. Then he started, shifting his chair further around the table to allow her more space.

“No, ma’am,” Kyle replied. “Miss Darlene.”

He shot out of his seat as Dot and Fatin approached behind them, smoothing his tie down the front of his shirt with his left hand as he reached out to shake with his right, introducing himself to them. Last he came to Shelby, his wrist hovering over a candle so closely that she knew it must be burning him.

“Uh, Shelby, isn’t it?”

When they made eye contact, she knew it at once, that pretense of not knowing, of pretending they didn’t know exactly who the other was.

“Oh, you know Shelby!” Darlene said. “You two used to be in Sunday School together.”

“That’s right,” Shelby said.

They both smiled and she saw the mirror of her own expression on his face. Fatin sat down beside him and gave her an odd look.

“And where is Misses Murray?” Darlene asked, interrupting the silence.

“Oh, my wife’s at a family thing,” Kyle said quickly. “Thought I should come anyway.”

Darlene laughed. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Shelby knew why he was there. Maybe to see her, but more so, to _avoid_. Make any impulse impossible. _Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil_.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Shelby said suddenly. “Ladies' room.”

Most of the way up the stairs to one of the guest baths, she stopped on the landing, closing her eyes tight and breathing slowly. A second later her phone went and she saw the message from Fatin in their group chat.

_Who is this guy? You’re like exes with -200% chemistry._

Fatin, cutting the root of the problem in two seconds flat. It didn’t matter anyway, because Shelby would literally rather die than admit who Kyle was to Fatin and Dot. Dot replied with a shrug emoji which made sense because Dot wasn’t part of the church circle. She wouldn’t have heard the rumors, felt the stares as the gossip went round when Kyle went to Plano.


	18. Chapter 18

The bathroom was bigger than some of the studio apartments she’d toured at as an undergrad. The freestanding bathtub sat underneath a circular window that had a fine view down across the yard to the edge of a wooded lake. Probably worth at least a million dollars, that lakeshore plot. She and Spencer used to fish in it as kids. She sat on the floor, her back against the side of the tub, looking at her phone, scrolling slowly upwards through the hundreds of texts she’d exchanged with Toni right back to that first one. 

_This is Shelby. Thanks for agreeing to go shopping. When is convenient?_

If she’d been anyone else. Anyone else. But she was Shelby Goodkind and she was sitting on a bathroom floor with a woven mat between her $600 dress and the tile wishing she hadn’t seen a guy she hadn’t spoken to in almost eight years because he’d gotten married and she knew in her gut he was some fucking ghost of Christmas Future come to warn her of the fate ahead. It wasn’t much of a reprieve. She’d been hiding in the bathroom approximately three minutes when someone walked in on her. A leg in black trousers entered the room, then a muffled “Shit, Shelbs, sorry” came from behind the hastily closed door.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” she called. “I’m decent.”

Spencer cautiously opened the door again, leaning in just far enough to see her on the rug with her phone balanced on her knees. His once pristine tie was loose and his hair was mussed enough she could tell without asking he was also having a tough party.

“Sorry,” he said again, shaking his head. “That’ll teach me to knock. Almost had a damn heart attack.”

“Not like there’s usually anyone up here,” Shelby said.

“Who are you hiding from?”

Shelby laughed. “Who are _you_ hiding from?”

He came the rest of the way in, shutting the door as he sat down on the lid of the toilet near her. “I asked you first.”

“I dunno. Everyone?”

“Least dad’s not making you sing like he used to.”

She got up, moving from leaning to sitting on the bath and he felt the pockets of his jacket idly, eventually producing a flask from one. He regarded her as he pulled out, evidently waiting for her to chastise him in some way, but she soothed his hesitation by holding her hand out for it. He unscrewed the lid and let her have the first drink, which she took after sniffing it suspiciously. She half expected it to be cheap tequila knowing Spencer, but she was pleasantly surprised to taste a rather smooth Scotch whisky. She handed him the flask and he drank, too.

“Who are you hiding from?” Shelby asked again.

“Dad mostly. Mama is a close second.”

“They still giving you hell about transferring from UTD?”

He planted his elbows on his thighs, rubbing his face with his free hand. “I’m going to the University of Pennsylvania. It’s not like I dropped out of school and became a drug dealer.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we’re all drug dealers by proxy.”

“They’re always telling me ‘You should be more like Shelby’ but I didn’t want to stay at UTD.”

Shelby hummed in dissent as she gazed up at the light fixture. “You don’t want to be like me, Spence.” She smiled at him. “Hiding in a bathroom on Christmas Eve.”

He grinned at that. “And yet here we are.”

“You’re doing the right thing. I know it’s not easy now, but you’ll be glad you went to Philly.”

“You went to UTD.”

Her eyes widened as she half smiled. “You’re not me.”

Spencer cocked his head, trying to figure out if she was messing with him or serious, and she laughed at his inability to separate kindness from arrogance in the moment.

“I just meant it working for me doesn’t mean it will work for you. What’s good for the goose isn’t always good for the gander.”

“I don’t know how you manage to stay so tough.” Returning the flask, he gave her an admiring nod.

“I’m a scientist, Spence. I get criticized for a living. I stand up in front of hundreds of people and defend decisions I made at midnight on a Wednesday because I was exhausted and I ran out of tubes.” She shrugged, taking another sip of whisky. “You learn to be tough or you die.”

Sudden footsteps in the hallway beyond startled them both, and in chucking Spencer’s open flask back to him she splashed him with liquor, then lost her balance entirely and tumbled backward into the tub through the shower curtain. A brisk knock sounded at the door and Spencer only just managed to choke out “just a second” before Dave walked in.

“What in the world?” Dave exclaimed, glancing between Spencer’s beet red face and Shelby’s feet dangling over the side of the bath. “Spencer…who…?”

Dave gestured at the headless legs, clearly thinking he’d caught his son in flagrante delicto with some girl from the party in the guest bath. Spencer spluttered out an incoherent reply in defense of himself while Shelby tried to sit back up and realized she was stuck.

“Daddy,” she cried to catch his attention. “Daddy, it’s just me.”

“Shelby?”

He jerked back the curtain, then with a sigh of vexation, he reached down and caught her forearm like they were Vikings shaking hands, helping her into an upright position. Feeling a little crazy anyway, the absolute absurdity of the situation got to Shelby and she started to laugh. She looked from her father to her brother and was relieved to see the flask was nowhere in sight.

“What in the world are you two doing?” Dave asked, hands on his hips.

“We were just catching up,” Spencer said swiftly.

“Y’all have a house full of guests downstairs.” Dave opened the door wider. “Come on. Get going.”

Shelby stood up with a helping hand from Spencer and she started to follow him out when Dave’s hand on her shoulder preempted her escape attempt. He leveled a serious frown at her, waving Spencer along.

“Shelby,” he said. “Quick word, if you please.”

With a growing feeling of trepidation, Shelby stopped, folding her hands in front of her and gazing resolutely into his face.

“You want to be more careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you. Down there with Kyle Murray. We don’t want to reopen old wounds, do we?”

Shelby tensed, knowing at once she needed to be on the defensive. “That was Grandma Darlene, not me.”

Dave regarded her, looking at her sidelong with his face half turned away. “When you burn your backside, you got to sit on blisters.”

“I left the most polite way I could.”

“You know I don’t like doing these things, Shelbs. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Shelby’s jaw tightened. “What have I ever done to make you think I’m not safe?”

“You be careful around that Dorothy Campbell and her friend, too.”

Shaking her head, Shelby frowned. “Daddy, you’ve known Dottie since we were kids.”

“And what about that other girl, Fatin?”

She glowered at him in disbelief. “Dot and Fatin are my _friends_.”

“And I’d be careful if I were you.”

“I don’t have to put up with this.”

Shelby took a few steps away from him, and he called after her, “As long as you are under my roof, you will do as I say.” She spun back, and he added curtly, “I will do what I have to. Do we understand each other?”

She rebelled, wanting nothing less than to knuckle under, to agree, but he commanded it and she, understanding the importance of appearances, obeyed. She nodded, a few quick jerky motions of her head, then she turned and scuttled off down the stairs.

+o+o

The rest of the party could have been worse. Overall, there was relatively little social bloodshed, in part because Shelby tried her best to bravely focus any negative attention on herself, deflecting questions about why Spencer transferred from UTD or why Melody’s boyfriends seemed to spawn like video game characters, endlessly coming and going through a revolving door. She spent a good portion of the evening explaining why she didn't have a new boyfriend (work) and what exactly had happened with Andrew (again, work). Shelby was just starting to think that the evening might not end too poorly when she saw Kyle again.

She was in the kitchen having a word with one of the caterers when she spotted him sitting on a bucket of pickled onions inside the darkness of the pantry. At first, she thought he looked like he’d been crying, but recognized he was drunk, the light shining on his red, sweaty cheeks. She jerked back abruptly in the middle of her exchange, meaning to dart from the kitchen as quickly as possible when he perceived her in turn, scrambling off the onion bucket and colliding with the door jamb of the pantry in his haste to get to her.

“Shelby,” he cried, voice faltering and slurring.

She stalked into the corridor, not slowing, but he broke into an ungainly run, catching her before she could regain the main part of the house. He was a big man for all he was intoxicated, grip iron strong and sure around her upper arm, preventing her from getting any further away. His breath stirred her hair, stinking of vodka. She didn’t know where the hell he got it from, but he’d drunk plenty.

“Let me go,” she hissed vehemently. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“Shelby,” he said. “Wait. I have to talk to you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He pushed her into an alcove that led to the utility room, the contrasting shafts of light from the moon outside painting stripes across his shoulders. Wiping his lips with his hand, he held her by the arm up against the storage shelves.

“Please, Shelby,” he whispered. “Please, I’ve got something…oh, God.” He cast his eyes skyward, seemingly lost in a moment of silent prayer. “I’m sorry. How have you been? I haven’t seen you much since we—”

“ _Don’t_.”

He broke off, nodding as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his collar. “I pray to God every day that I’ll wake up and things’ll be different.”

“I’m sorry that you never grew out of that _phase_ but I’m fine now.”

Grimacing, he laughed. “I see that same awful look in your eyes. We’re the same.”

“I am nothing like you.”

His expression hardened, becoming more urgent. “I know this is coming out of nowhere, and I wish—there’s no way to lead into it—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Shelby, you have to—"

He reached into his pants pocket, fumbling for his phone, and she took the distraction as her moment to bolt. Slipping past him, she rounded the corner and was nearly back to the main foyer when he called out to her, baritone breaking on the vowels.

“You’re not alone, do you hear me?”

Using the black screen of her phone as a mirror, she touched up her makeup and smoothed her hair. She couldn’t exactly go fetch Dave and tell him what happened, so she slipped easily through the crowd until she found her brother, who could be relied upon to fulfill her instructions in secrecy. She noted he’d discarded his jacket, probably because the spilled whisky was so peaty it smelled like he’d dumped a bottle of Liquid Smoke on it.

“Hey, Spence,” she said to him quietly. “Could you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Kyle Murray has had a little too much back in the kitchen. Could you make sure he gets a nice discrete exit? I’d go myself but you know how Daddy gets when I’m not in public view for five minutes.”

He winked at her in such an exaggerated manner it gave her a shaky laugh. “I’ll get the event planner to take care of it.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t ask for a better brother.”

He was only gone a few minutes before he returned, his subtle thumbs up to her indicating the deed was done. A few hangers on lingered another hour or two, but finally the party dwindled to the last of the staff and the immediate family plus Dot and Fatin. Dot had essentially been a member of the family for the past ten years, ever since her father passed and Fatin didn’t know the meaning of the word quit, so it made sense that they would round out the party when Dave gathered them for an impromptu gift giving.

"Your mama and I are attending a charity event tomorrow morning," Dave announced, "so we'll be missing Christmas morning with you."

That news wasn't terribly surprising to any of the Goodkind children; it had happened often enough during their youths. It was also not surprising to Spencer or Melody that their gifts came in the form of donations to various organizations, because honestly the three of them already had more money than they knew what to do with. Okay, maybe Melody had plenty of ideas for her share, but Spencer and Shelby could have lived in relative opulence without much difficulty. Dot and Fatin also were presented with expensive gift boxes. The gauntlet was thrown, however, when it came to the gifts for Number Forty-one and Shelby. Forty-one opened a box with a beautiful diamond studded tiepin, but there wasn’t anything for Shelby, or didn’t appear to be.

"Sorry, Shelbs," David said. "Jobeth, you want to go get Shelby’s present?”

Shelby didn’t say anything but she scrutinized her father. Since when had he forgotten her during Christmas? When Jobeth returned, she handed her a neatly wrapped rectangular box. There was even a little tag on it with Shelby’s name in neat cursive script. Dot and Shelby glanced at each other, a lot of unspoken confusion shared in the look, as she tore into the paper. As she pulled off the lid, she actually winced like she thought the box was going to contain a landmine the perfect size to destroy only the person handling it. Then, a second later, Shelby lifted out a basket of summer sausage. Nobody said anything for a painfully long moment and it was Darlene that spoke first.

“Well, that’s sort of mean of you, David,” Darlene said.

He didn’t reply but Shelby knew without any further comment he was punishing her. It wasn't the sausage, although that was a fucking Freudian thesis all in itself. Dave could have given her a frame constructed of elbow macaroni and it wouldn't have mattered. It was the vindictive premeditation. The disparity between the gift they’d given Forty-one and their own offspring.

“Thanks,” Shelby said softly.

Fatin, bizarrely, was the one who broke the tension as she said, “Who doesn’t love a good sausage, am I right?”

Dave and Jobeth both frowned, but Spencer suddenly developed a case of whooping cough and hacked diligently into his elbow for several seconds while Shelby deliberately closed the box back up and Dot kept biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“Well said,” Darlene said with a slight twinkle in her eye. “As fun as it has been seeing all of you, this old lady is ready for bed. Shelby, would you mind walking me out?”

Shelby obediently got to her feet and escorted Darlene out to her car, where she was helped in by her chauffeur. She leaned out to Shelby one last time as Shelby hugged her goodbye.

“Don’t you worry about your daddy,” Darlene said reassuringly. “I’ll give him a talking to. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Shelby said.

She waved as Darlene’s car receded into the darkness. Once the sound of the tires faded away, she crossed both arms over her chest and looked up at the night sky, sighing deeply.

“So am I crazy or was that weird as hell?” Fatin asked as she came up from behind. “Like it’s kind of hilarious but also ‘what the fuck’ right?”

Shelby turned to her, Fatin lost in thought with her head angled, while Dot stood further back, still handling Shelby with kid gloves. She still had that aggravating concerned expression, and her silence was grating over Shelby’s frazzled nerves like sandpaper.

“What, Dottie?” Shelby said sharply. “If you’re going to say something, just say it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Shelby,” Dot said. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Whatever it is you think I need to talk about. Or better, whatever you told my dad.”

Dot shook her head, obviously nonplussed. “What are you talking about?”

“Why was my dad in there grilling me about you and Fatin?”

Looking over her shoulder in some alarm, Dot motioned at Shelby to lower her voice. “I have no fucking clue what is happening here, but your dad is still my boss in case you have forgotten.”

“Why was he in there asking me fucking questions? He wouldn’t be unless you were in there saying something to put ideas in his head—”

“Shelby, stop. What the fuck has gotten into you?”

“I’m just saying the obvious thing—”

“No, the obvious thing is you need to talk this out. You are my best friend and—”

“You are _not_ my friend!”

Something splintered the dam suppressing the wellspring within her, and all at once she knew she crossed a line she could not take back. She took half a step forward, realizing too late what she’d said in her anger and frustration. Echoes of another time and other things said that had changed her life forever. The initial temper of their exchange faded quickly, and Dot shook her head slightly as she looked at her childhood friend.

“Dottie,” Shelby said, remorse beginning to overtake the rage again. “I don’t—"

“You need to figure your shit out, Shelby,” Dot replied.

“You’re not staying?”

“If you’d stopped to ask me, you’d know that I’m going to Matteo’s this year, but you didn’t.” She walked away from Shelby and Fatin. “Merry Christmas, motherfuckers.”

Somewhere in the house, Frank Sinatra instructed them to make the Yuletide gay, but her troubles were not miles away. They were imminent, right in front of her. Blowing up in her face. To her left, Fatin let out an exasperated groan.

“I was going to hook up with the most beautiful MMA guy tonight,” Fatin lamented. “I so do not have time for this, but come on. Let’s go.”

“Where?” Shelby asked.

“You are going to get in my car and we’re going to go for a drive.”

It couldn’t get worse, could it? That was her last foolish thought as her shoulders slumped and she headed for Fatin’s car.

+o+o

It was well after one by the time they were on the interstate. Fatin just drove, heading south with the glow of the tachometer reflecting on her skin. Sometimes, Shelby could see her head canted to the side as she ran her fingers restlessly over her hair. Shifting in her seat, Shelby checked her phone. The very last text she'd gotten from Toni was still in her messages.

_sure_

That had been just three days previous, when Toni came to take her to the airport. God, it had only been three days. She picked at her nails, unable to break the acrylic away from the keratin underneath, but she was pretty successful at chipping the paint and scattering the flakes of it over the front of her dress. They were almost to Ennis before either Shelby or Fatin spoke, and it was so quiet Shelby literally jumped.

"Start at the beginning, please," Fatin said.

“The beginning of what?” Shelby asked.

“Look, I see whatever is going on over here—” she made a circular motion with her hand that sort of encompassed all of Shelby’s being “—and it is next level train wreck. No offense.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean and when you make _Dorothy_ so upset she’s like ‘nah, fuck this circus’ that upsets me, too. I’m not about it.”

“Dottie’s not—”

“Dottie nothing. I tried the nice, gentle method when I was in Minnesota and I see now that was a mistake. You have some serious shit happening.”

Shelby started to protest again, and Fatin sighed loudly.

“Oh, please. I know sexual tension when I see it. Thought I could clue you in your lab girl or whatever had a mutual crush, but I seriously underestimated how much baggage you were carrying.” Fatin glanced at her. “If I’d known I would have done this differently.”

Shelby sat up straighter, but it almost seemed to make her smaller and more insignificant against Fatin’s confidence.

“Believe it or not, I get it. Sometimes we have to hide who we are to get through the day.” With a little shrug, Fatin smiled. “I’ve been with girls. You think I get to be honest about anything I do with my family? Always worried I’ll run into someone from mosque.”

“Everything I’ve been taught tells me that way of life is a sin.”

“What defines a sinner? Some dead guys couldn’t get their story straight in a book?”

“The Bible is not just a book. The Bible is the word of God.”

Seeming to sense her forceful approach was just driving Shelby to dig in deeper, fortify her position with denials rather than realization, Fatin changed tack. “I see so much hurt in you. You never would have talked to Dot like that unless you were at the end of your rope. How long have you felt this way?”

Shelby swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes brimming, because she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud, but Fatin knew and she’d burned all her bridges. She’d probably lost Toni. There was nothing else to lose, and still, she couldn’t do it. She shook her head slowly, tears starting fall down her cheeks.

“Okay, let’s back up even further than that. Forget everything else and tell me what’s bothering you most right now.”

Shelby managed a laugh through her tears. “That would be you.”

“Yeah, obviously. Something had to set off this feud between you and Dot.”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “Dottie was just trying to get through to me and I—”

She stopped, unable to go on, and a soft hiccupping sob escaped her. She took several bracing breaths, ungracefully dabbing her nose with the back of her arm for want of anything else.

“I thought I was stronger than this,” Shelby said.

Fatin rolled her eyes. “You have a fucked-up definition of strength. I’m just saying.”

“Why did I—I could have gone a whole lifetime and…” She trailed off, sniffling.

“You want to tell me about Toni?”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you tell someone. Speaking from experience here.”

Shelby tipped her head back, gazing at the ceiling while she tried to compose what she knew about Toni into a few short sentences, only to find that it was impossible. How could she compress Toni Shalifoe into a caption? It was like trying to recreate the Sahara with a handful of sand.

"She's…hard to describe," Shelby said. “Like on the one hand obnoxious, so much aggro, and then on the other hand so sweet it breaks my damn heart.”

"You like her.” It wasn’t a question.

"It doesn’t matter now.”

Fatin glanced at Shelby with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

Shelby hesitated a long moment, then confessed in the barest murmur, “I kissed her.”

“What?! That sounds like the beginning of something awesome to me!”

“That was almost three weeks ago.”

“Nuh uh. No way. You text that tiny lesbian right now and tell you want to kiss her face off.”

"Even if I wanted to I can’t.”

"What? She's still has a mouth, doesn’t she?"

"Toni is in my fucking study. She is as off limits as it gets.”


	19. Chapter 19

Fatin frowned, shifting her grip on the wheel.

"Wait, she's in your study?" Fatin asked.

"It means," Shelby said with elaborate slowness, "that if anyone from my lab, the clinic, or the University finds out that we kissed I will be removed from the study and have no chance of participating in the vaccine trial. The lab will be formally censured, possibly barred from future human studies and trials."

"Because you two had one tiny kiss? A little melodramatic, don't you think?"

"Epstein-Barr virus is transmitted through saliva and—"

"Uh, yeah? I'm an epidemiologist, Shelby. I know how people get mono."

"Thanks for the reminder.”

Fatin waved her hand. "Please, continue your lecture, professor."

"By kissing her, I could give her the virus—"

“She's a negative? How is that even possible?"

"Look, I'm not supposed to be discussing any of this with you. It’s a violation of all the rules. I'm not even supposed to know her subject identifier!"

The truth was Shelby still had no idea how Toni managed to be EBV negative. She and Daniel had started to theorize a few of the study participants were immune due to their behavioral profiles, and Toni happened to be one of them. That didn't preclude the possibility, however, that Toni had just been insanely lucky. If so, Shelby could give her the virus. Technically, it would be a knowing if not deliberate inoculation of a participant by a researcher. It would be the worst thing she could do as a scientist.

"I get the picture," Fatin said, "You're not supposed to fraternize with the enemy."

"The whole thing is unethical any way you cut it," Shelby said miserably. "We shouldn't even be _friends_."

"This is just an observational study, right? Not as though you're actively treating her for something. If she withdraws, you're in the clear."

Shelby shook her head. "I don’t—I don’t even know what I want.”

"Baby steps, okay?" Fatin said. “It’s going to be a lot of two steps forward and one step back. You can’t do this at a distance.”

"She's just…why the hell did I kiss her?”

Fatin patted her consolingly on the shoulder as Shelby reached up to touch the cross around her neck without thinking, rubbing the small silver emblem between thumb and forefinger.

“Does she know?” Fatin touched the chain. “About that?”

“A little. She’s called me ‘youth pastor’ a few times.”

“Always a great conversation starter.”

“Telling people you love Jesus doesn’t usually endear you to the scientific community. It just…doesn’t get talked about.”

“Okay, I have to know. Like, do you believe in evolution?”

“Do you believe in evolution?”

“You cannot be in our profession and not believe in the effects of selection pressure. You just can’t.” Fatin waited, making an expectant face to encourage her to answer. “Really? You don’t believe in evolution?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So are you like…an intelligent design girl? Or…”

“Fatin.”

She gave one small nod of acceptance, knowing she had pushed the Shelby too far. “Sorry.”

Fatin sighed as Shelby buried her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes before looking back at her. Clearly, Shelby was tapping out, so Fatin let it drop.

"I'm sorry," Shelby said. “About ruining your Christmas.”

Making a noise of mock horror, Fatin retorted, "Christians killing Christmas for Muslims everywhere!”

“Where are we even going?”

Fatin shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re just two ladies on I-forty-five with three quarters of a tank of gas and a lot on our minds.”

They were half an hour from Houston when Shelby spoke again.

“Thanks,” she said grudgingly.

“Don’t thank me. All that toughness in there? That’s you.”

+o+o

Shelby must have slept for a while, because when she woke again the dim gray light of pre-dawn suffused the windows and they were no longer driving. She sat up, stretching slightly as she looked around. Fatin wasn’t with her, but as she looked through the windshield, she saw Fatin’s outline, silhouetted against the sky. As she pushed the car door open, the sound of gulls met her ears then the slow dull roar of waves. The cool salty air assailed her senses, and she gazed out over the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Fatin sat on the hood, her heels balanced on the bumper, as she hugged her knees. Shelby almost asked where they were but, in the distance, she saw the outline of the pier.

“You drove us all the way to Galveston?” Shelby said, both impressed and a little irked because it meant they had a hell of a long journey to get back to Dallas.

Fatin smiled. “I ran out of road.”

Seeing as it was Christmas morning it was remarkably quiet, just the two of them sitting on the seawall, while the occasional car passed them by. The Gulf was calm as far as Shelby could see, the waves only starting to break as they washed in over the sandbar toward shore. A slight film of foam floated on the surface of the water. She closed her eyes and listened as the breeze brushed her hair off her forehead. For several long minutes she and Fatin coexisted together in silence, watching as the sun rose over east Texas, the horizon tinged pink behind the clouds. Shorebirds ran up and down the length of the beach with the tide and a few pelicans swooped low in a trough of the waves.

“Ah, is that a lesser bushtit?” Fatin asked, pointing toward them.

Shelby squinted. “Looks like some kind of plover to me.”

“You have absolutely no sense of humor.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “I’m just messing with you, Fatin.”

“Oh my God, I thought you had an Audubon field guide hidden in your bra for a second. Don’t scare me like that.”

“Does my bra look big enough to hold ‘Birds of North America’ to you?”

“Shelby Goodkind, are you flirting with me?”

Feeling for the first time like she should just lean into it and let it happen, she laughed. “You’re not my type.”

Fatin grinned, hugging Shelby around the shoulders. “See? Baby steps.”

“I don’t know how you could look at this and not believe there’s a God.”

“I think the whole field of physics would like to enter the chat.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“If that’s how you really feel, God made you, too, you know.”

Shelby crossed her arms as she nodded, absorbing it, taking it at face value. Beside her, Fatin glowed in the morning light.

“Well,” Fatin said. “I hate to break up this beautiful moment, but I really need to pee.”

+o+o

Shelby could have wrangled them a reservation for brunch, but calling any of the usual staff to do it on Christmas morning was beyond the level of suffering she was willing to inflict on another human. It took a bit of searching and waiting but Fatin managed to locate a Starbucks off the waterfront that was still open despite the holiday. Feeling guilty about patronizing the business at all, much less on Christmas morning, Shelby stuffed a wad of cash into their tip jar when they ordered. She sat sipping the coffee, trying to come up with some idea of how she was going to try to make things right with Dot when something she was not expecting happened. She got a text. From Toni.

_how's Dallas?_

What a question to ask her, at such an odd time, because really? 8am on Christmas day? Maybe she was in Leech Lake. Maybe she was somewhere else entirely. Shelby didn't know. It was too much, somehow, that casual inquiry after everything that had happened in the past four days. Shelby cradled her phone in her palm for several minutes thinking about if she even knew the difference between things she wanted and things she didn't want. The scales tipped again, and just as she'd rocked from confusion to fear to reluctant hope, there was still resignation and anger.

She had to put Toni out of her mind. Toni being in the study precluded anything from happening by definition. Not to mention Toni was also her undergrad, her student, the power dynamic was all wrong. It was just a kiss, so what if she'd initiated it? She would just go back to Minnesota and explain to Toni that they could only be friends, possibly get Daniel to reassign Toni if she had to, either to Nora or have her sent back the clinic. Quick and clean.

Yet in almost the same thought, out of nowhere, she found herself having a weird daydream about Toni. As the weather had turned colder in Minneapolis, Shelby learned Toni had a magnificent pair of snow boots. Shelby lusted after those boots. Knee high dark grain leather and blue canvas, embellished with straps and buckles that wound up Toni's lean calves. There was something so strangely sexy about them, because they were just snow boots, the leather over covers fastening in the arch of her foot like a spat.

They stayed just snow boots for weeks, then one day she met Toni on her way into lab, and watched her as she came striding up the wide tunnel toward her with that easy slow gait that kept her knee from hurting. It probably would have been like all the other times she'd seen Toni wear those boots if Toni hadn't caught her eye and held her gaze until she was close enough to touch. It made Shelby stare at her when they stood a hair's breadth apart, the moment liquid. With heat, confusion, _possibility_. God, Fatin was right; she couldn't do it at a distance of 1000 miles, but she feared what would be waiting for her when she returned to Minneapolis. Most of all, she feared that possibility, because Toni was unequivocally off limits and the knowledge just made her _want_ so much more.

She was so deep in thought about Toni, still gazing down at her text, that she almost jumped out of her skin when Fatin came back to her and sat in the chair opposite.

“Thanks for that,” she said. “It was getting dire.”

Fatin took her in then laughed. They both looked ridiculous. Okay, Shelby was bordering on ridiculous still wearing her dress from the previous night and wearing waterproof mascara which was apparently only proofed against getting removed after being accidentally smeared into a circle beneath her left eye. Fatin still looked like she was ready to roll up to a photoshoot.

“I look like a battered housewife,” Shelby said.

Rummaging around in her handbag, Fatin produced a makeup wipe and triumphantly handed it to her. “I guess I did kidnap you.”

Shelby scrubbed the makeup from eyes, then exhaled quietly. “What am I going to do about Dottie?”

“I think it’s obvious that Dot knows what the fuck is up. If you go in person and apologize, I’m pretty sure she’ll understand. I think I speak for Greater Dallas when I say everyone was just sick of your shit last night.”

“Fatin…”

“Yeah, I’m amazing. I know. Goes without saying.” Fatin leaned back, raising both arms up to acknowledge her invisible, adoring fans. “Do you mind if we kind of hang and get caffeinated before we head back? I have like six hundred DMs.”

Shelby agreed gratefully. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“You have six hundred DMs?”

“No, that I wanted to, um, soak up the beach a little, since we _are_ in Galveston.”

“Are you even allowed to go in the ocean? I don’t want to have to EpiPen you in a Starbucks on Christmas day.”

“I’m allergic to shellfish, not salt water.”

Fatin waved at her without looking up from her scrolling. “‘Sweat, tears, or the sea’ right?”

She had no idea what Fatin was talking about. “Right.”

“Keep it to small talk when you text her.”

Shelby angled her head, a little confused by the juxtaposition of Fatin doling out sage advice while simultaneously replying to hook up DMs, but Fatin seemed to know something she didn’t and she nodded seriously in assent.

She walked back out and crossed Seawall Boulevard, kicking off her heels to descend the steps into the sand. It was cool and damp beneath the soles of her feet, and she sank slightly into it the closer and wetter she drew to the tide line. She took a deep, slow breath. Was she really just going to let Toni go? Not try to fight to keep at least her friendship? With shaking fingers she typed back.

_I'm not in Dallas._

The response was slightly slower than usual, but that might have been due to the network rather than Toni.

_good. weather looks wild._

That made Shelby smile. _Yeah. Where are you?_

_Martha’s_

_Good Christmas?_

_conducting a controlled experiment. you'd be proud._

_An experiment on what?_

_the placebo effect_. _does thermostat actually change temperature, or just give illusion it changes temperature_

_Results?_

_inconclusive so far_

Shelby rolled her eyes. Toni could be positively goofy when she wasn't making Shelby want to punch through three inches of drywall, and she ran her thumb down on the side of her phone. The little exchange had been very _them_ without touching any of the raw places that had been dogging Shelby for days. Maybe it was Toni's way of telling her it was going to be okay, but then she was probably reading too much into it. Maybe they were just avoiding the problem. Then after a minute or two, she got another text.

_where are you?_

_Galveston_

_why the fuck are you in Galveston?_

_Long story_

_i have time_

A thought struck her as she dug her toes into the surf. _Can you swim?_

_random but yes_

_How’d you learn?_

_this isn’t the land of 10,000 lakes just for fucking giggles_

_The lakes taught you to swim?_

_lol fuck off. i taught myself. you?_

_Dad threw me in the country club pool. Sink or swim style._

_weird flex_

Shelby snapped a picture of the sunrise and sent it to her. _Think you’d ever want to swim here?_

_miss me with that shark shit_

Shelby rolled her eyes as she laughed, because of course the Minnesotan thought the Gulf of Mexico was teeming with toothy death fish. _Are you really scared of sharks?_

_no_

She was such an obvious liar it just made Shelby laugh again, but it was the follow-on that did not amuse her at all.

_i'd go if i got to go with you_

If someone had asked her an hour before if she thought it could get more confusing, she would have said no. It should have made her run, fucking flee, not want to tuck herself in the crook of Toni's elbow, to curl up in that forbidden place, against her steady warmth to be held.

+o+o

Christmas Day actually ended up being kind of lovely, or as lovely as it could have been given the circumstances. Shelby drove most of the way back to Dallas to give Fatin a chance to sleep. It also provided plenty of time for thought as the interstate moved out of Galveston into stands of coastal pine forest then rolling pastures as they neared Dallas again. A lot of it dwelled on the exchange she had with Fatin and how to reconcile the things she said in the heat of the moment with how she’d feel when she had slept and eaten and the world returned to normal. Fatin left her in her driveway with a hug.

“I’ll bring Dot later,” Fatin said, “so you can talk to her.”

“To apologize for being such a bitch,” Shelby muttered.

“To apologize for being overwhelmed.”

Shelby hugged her again, not knowing what to say.

“I don’t know about you but I need twelve hours of sleep and a Tylenol, so I’m going home.”

She sighed when Fatin had gone, a slow steady exhale, as she titled her head back to feel the misty drizzle filtering through the branches of the oak in her front yard. Surrounded once again by white bread, picket fence suburbia the reality of the whole twenty-four hours washed over her. She was cold and exhausted and no longer had the capacity to care about anything. There was only utter numbness. So much creeping, servile hiding. Lying. She padded barefoot into the neatly mown lawn and sank to her knees on the wet grass. It was out in the universe; someone knew. Bowing her head, she prayed, muttering the words softly under her breath, wanting God to love her even if she was a human, imperfect thing.

She didn’t stay there long, lest the neighbors start to talk, but she felt better for having the dirt on her skin, for asking forgiveness because she couldn’t forgive herself for being what she was. When she walked up to the front door, she saw there was a note tucked in between the screen door and the jamb on a slip of yellow paper. She carefully pulled it out and smoothed it flat to read.

_Here’s my number in case you ever want to talk. You deserve more. -Kyle_

She frowned slightly at the message, at first a little afraid he knew where she lived, but then remembered her address must be in the church registry and relaxed slightly with the knowledge. Crumpling the note in her fist, she held the screen door back with her elbow as she unlocked the deadbolt and went in. She almost threw it away out of hand, but paused, considering it. Maybe he didn’t have a Fatin or a Dot. She compromised by taking a picture of it with her phone, then dropped it in the trash on her way up the stairs to bed.

+o+o

She could have slept straight through to the next morning, but she was rudely disturbed in the early evening by an obstinate banging on her front door. Barely conscious, she scowled into the darkness of the room, crawling to the edge of the bed and lying on her front so she could reach for her phone. A dozen missed calls from her parents greeted her, as well as several texts from Spencer.

_Are you coming to dinner? Where are you?_

Shelby rolled onto her back and groaned with both hands over her face. It was fucking Christmas. How could she forget it was Christmas? A rush of panicky neurotransmitters woke her all at once and she thudded head first onto the floor in her haste to answer the door. She scrambled up, running to the landing and slipping on the hardwood again as she tried to round the corner down the stairs. She threw the door open with one hand brushing her hair out of her eyes, not even bothering to check and see how she looked because it didn’t matter. She’d happily stab whoever was knocking if it meant she could lie back down and sleep.

“Shelby!” Spencer said in relief with his knocking hand still raised. “Thought I was going to have to break in with your spare key.”

“Not breaking in if you have a key,” Shelby said scratchily.

“Were you asleep?”

She nodded, eyes half closed, as she held the door open far enough for him to come inside.

“You’re damn lucky Dad didn’t call out the National Guard.”

“That’s just like him. Have the SWAT team swoop in here and find his missing daughter sleeping.”

He put both hands on her shoulders. “What’s going on? Are you hungover?”

That woke her up even more and she narrowed her eyes in rebuke. “Do I look hungover to you? Just had a late night and overslept.”

A cocky smile upturned the left side of his mouth and he laughed. “Oh, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes which made him laugh harder.

“So are you coming to dinner?”

“I feel like hell actually.”

“Stomach flu?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“What?” she asked, then understanding what he was doing she nodded slowly. “Right. Stomach flu.”

“Better get on back to bed, then.”

“Thanks, Spence.”

He hugged her, his strength and kindness consoling her. “Merry Christmas, Shelbs, all right? I love you.”

It came out so easy and natural, and she looked up at him for a mad moment wondering if he would still love her if he knew. The apprehension must have been painted plainly on her face, because he paused.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“I love you, too,” she said quickly.

He squeezed her arm as he turned to go. “Promise I’ll see you before you go back to Minnesota?”

“Promise.”

She watched him through the screen. Truth be told, if in the end she was a monster who couldn’t be saved, she’d miss Spencer the most in hell.

+o+o

The next morning the first thing she did was text Dot to ask if she could see her. The second thing she did was take those damn acrylics off. She sat out on her front step with acetone filled foil on each finger, like some kind of deranged banjo player. The smell of the acetone was sharp even in the open air and she knew it would destroy her cuticles, but they had to come off before she went back to lab work the following day. They didn’t fit with her life anymore.

She practiced what she was going to say to Dot a few times. Each iteration woefully insufficient to right the wrong she’d done to Dottie. That was how Fatin and Dot found her, with her cheek resting on her knee. Dot came around from the passenger side of Fatin’s car, saw Shelby, and promptly started to turn around when Fatin caught her and gave her a push in Shelby’s direction. She closed the rest of the distance and stood in front of Shelby with crossed arms. She opened her mouth, but then saw the aluminum foil and scowled.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked.

“Taking my nails off,” Shelby replied quickly, folding her hands behind her back.

“Okay, whatever. Say what you’re going to say.”

A long silence followed as Shelby tried to think of the right thing to tell her, but her brain decamped and she stood there like a lemon saying nothing.

"Shelby, the last time you were this quiet you just had the posts for your implants done and you didn't want anyone to see.”

"Well, I've still got all my teeth." Shelby flashed her a humorless grin to prove she was in possession of all her incisors.

“Glad to see you didn’t get into any bar fights in Galveston.”

Shelby’s eyebrows worked together as she raised a look of question to Fatin.

“Hello?” Fatin replied, waving. “This is a deeply personal journey that is between you and Dorothy. Why would I do that?”

“All she told me is that you two went to Galveston like a couple of psychos,” Dot interjected. “Like what were you actually smoking?”

“Dottie, I’m so sorry. I don’t—”

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right? Like how long have we been friends?”

“A long time.” She stopped. “I mean, we’ve been friends a long time. Not that I’ve been an idiot…no, that’s fair. Probably both.”

Dot finally smiled. “You’re my best friend, Shelby. I knew you were going through some shit and I should have been more patient.”

“I never should have said those awful things to you. And I should have asked you about Mateo. I was so wrapped up in—”

“I’m not going to pretend it was okay, because it wasn’t, but I get it. And I’m still here for you one hundred percent.”

Dot held open her arms and Shelby embraced her, eyes tearing with relief and gratitude to have both Fatin and Dot on her side. They had a lot more to talk about, but that would come.

“What the hell is that?” Fatin asked abruptly, prompting Dot and Shelby to turn to look.

They followed her gaze up into the oak tree, and Shelby frowned as she said, “Is that a traffic cone?”

Fatin nodded. “It’s so nice to see it up there in its natural habitat, not like the domesticated ones we see in the street.”

“Traffic cones gone wild,” Dot mused.

“Why is there a cone in my tree?” said Shelby.

“I feel like there’s a lame arboreal joke somewhere in there about trees and cones, but I just don’t have the energy right now.”

“Wait. Don’t oak trees make acorns?”

“Oh my God,” Fatin laughed. “Not again. I’m going to get you like a swear jar for nature facts.”

“I could just buy a bigger bra?”

“Only if it makes your tits look good, honey.”

Looking from Shelby to Fatin and back again, Dot shook her head. “Why the hell are we talking about Shelby’s breasts?”

“What happens in Galveston, stays in Galveston.”


	20. Chapter 20

Shrugging into her lab coat, Shelby settled the cloth across her shoulders as she entered Quinn's lab. She'd been working with his post bac for a few days, and his claim that Niko was clever was spot on. Niko was standing at his bench measuring something out when she came in. He smiled at her, and greeted her with his Aussie drawl.

"Good morning, Shelby," Niko said, looking toward the window. "The weather's shit today."

"The weather's been bad most every day," Shelby replied. "At least its warmer than Minnesota."

"We can look forward to summer."

The young man was pleasant and intelligent and they worked well together through the morning. They were starting their second run of the assay, when Niko craned his neck to see something down the corridor.

"Shelby," Niko warned, "Quinn's coming."

Shelby turned away from the rain-streaked window and looked back toward Quinn who was moving up the lab with none other than her father floating in his wake. His holiness had apparently condescended to venture into the land of mere mortals, and Shelby scowled, half with the prospect of having to speak with Dave and half because she was starting to sound like Fatin in her own head. Quinn didn't say anything, hands crammed into the pockets of his lab coat as his head ducked a bit between his shoulders like he was a nervous turtle about to pop back into its shell. Instead, it was Dave who spoke.

"Shelby," Dave said with a smile that chilled her a bit, "I hoped you'd be here. Would you come with me into Doctor Miller’s office?"

Shelby nodded, but for once she didn’t feel particularly cowed. That was potentially very bad. Dave could eject her from the vaccine trial if he chose or worse, what if he'd caught wind of something about her little indiscretion with Toni. No, that wasn’t possible. Dot and Fatin would take the secret to their graves if she asked it. They were her friends. She couldn’t let Dave get into her head. Following Dave into Quinn's corner office, she stood gripping the back of one of the chairs with white knuckles while he drew the blinds to keep the sun off. Shelby was on the verge of a full-blown aneurysm when David sat down carefully on the edge of the desk.

"Where did you spend Christmas?" Dave asked.

Oh. They were going to talk about Christmas, nearly a week after the fact like Shelby and Dot hadn’t had a screaming match outside the house on Christmas Eve and also like she hadn’t turned up to dinner under the guise of food poisoning. She decided the truth was probably the safest strategy.

“I went to Galveston,” she said.

He looked surprised. “Galveston?”

“What’s that quote about salt water?” She wracked her brain but couldn’t remember whatever pretentious thing Fatin said to her. “Being a cure for all ills?”

“Sweetheart, you know I don’t like being this way. I just wanted to come and say, maybe I’ve been a little harsh with you.”

Was it an apology? It didn’t feel like an apology, but Shelby also didn’t know what to do with it.

“Good luck with your testing,” he said. “You make sure to call your mother and I when you get back.”

Dave didn't give Shelby a chance to respond before he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and left the office. Shelby stared after him. She didn’t trust him, even in his kindness didn’t trust him at all. He was always going to break her. She would never be free. With that Shelby went back to the research labs, leaving her self-hatred in the shadow of the stylized Goodkind double helix. She and Niko had made good progress on the antibody assay so she felt a bit better about having to go back to Minnesota. She wasn't going to finish the requested testing in time, but she would have something rather than nothing. Shelby didn't see her father again before she left Texas, though she wasn't sure if that was due to avoidance on her part or Dave's. Maybe they had come to the part of their little cycle where he gave her the silent treatment, forcing her to figure out what she’d done wrong and beg forgiveness.

+o+o

The following night she texted her brother, determined not to break her promise to see him again before she flew away from all her problems in Dallas to all her problems in Minnesota. Mostly her singular problem in Minnesota. Who needed to stop distracting her by texting.

_martha just called chocolate tree paste_

_There’s more in chocolate than just cocoa._

_i can’t stop thinking about it_

Shelby didn’t want to keep thinking about it either, but the whole thing gave her pause. The next thing she knew she was looking up what the inside of a cocoa fruit looked like and then watched a video on chocolate manufacturing, which she sent to Toni as a series of links. Toni replied four minutes later.

_see? tree paste_

Her response was interrupted by Spencer who she’d accidentally ignored for twenty minutes going down the tree paste rabbit hole.

_Does five work or no?_

_Yes, sorry. I’ll see you then._

He brought her pie. She wasn’t sure why the hell he wanted to eat pie, but if that was the food on his mind then far be it for her to not eat pie. At least it wasn’t muffins. They stood at her island in the kitchen, across from one another. Her house in Dallas was a little more country home than her apartment in Minneapolis, trading maple for granite and with large windows looking into the back yard. It was going dark already and Shelby had to flick on all the lights to fetch the plates in her cupboards. He grinned at her as he shoveled giant forkfuls of pecan studded goo into his mouth. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled anyway, answering his questions about her project with succinct sentences.

“I can’t believe you’ve been so calm about this whole thing with your study,” Spencer said. “Like I don’t get all the particulars, but it’s obvious even to me that GTW getting involved means a world of trouble for you.”

Shelby nodded, content to carefully separate the pie into a dozen individual pieces, a pecan for each.

“I think I understand why you haven’t wanted to be around this year.” He took another mouthful and chewed thoughtfully. “I was starting to think you didn’t like me anymore.”

“How do you think Melody is doing?”

“Like with Mom and Dad? Or applying to college? Or just in life?”

“At home, all alone without us.”

“Melody never cared much whether or not we were around.”

Frowning, Shelby started cutting all the little pieces into even smaller pieces with the edge of her fork.

“Are you going to eat that? Or should I just put it in a blender for you?”

“Sorry.” To pacify him, she ate some of it, letting the sickly sweetness of the corn syrup melt over her tongue. “I’m not looking forward to going back to Minneapolis tomorrow.”

“At least Dottie will be with you, won’t she?”

She smiled mirthlessly. “That’s the other thing. Daddy’s been using her like some kind of Trojan horse, forcing her to come up for all these stupid meetings.”

“You can always come and stay with me for a while if you want, Shel. We can go on dumb historical tours. See the Liberty Bell?”

She dropped her fork with a clatter. “You really think Melody is all right?”

Looking a little confused, he shrugged. “She’s never had as much trouble with Daddy as you or me.”

“I’m just always butting heads with him and I hate to think she’s down here dealing with his bad moods because of some fool thing I said or did.”

“More like she’s dealing with his moods because of something she did or said. Kid’s got a wild streak.”

A wild streak. She almost laughed at that, because Melody could drink on school nights and fuck Forty-one and there wouldn’t be half as much hell to pay as Shelby got simply for existing. Maybe it was stupid for her to be concerned about making things worse for Melody when she was so damn adept at making things worse for herself.

“It’s cause you’re the oldest,” Spencer told her.

“Got to set that good example,” Shelby replied.

“So what if he doesn’t like what you do? You’re grown now. What’s the worst that could happen? He cuts you off?”

“Right now, the worst is he sabotages my project.”

“Hmm. Not great.” He leaned over, starting to eat parts of her pie as well. “You have, what two years left?”

Pushing the plate towards him, she turned away to get herself a glass of water from the tap. Two more years. How many fucking times had she recited to herself that mantra of “just a little longer” because she’d been doing it since forever. _Just until I’m out of high school. Just until I’m out of college. Just until my project is done._ It was never going to stop, was it? The feeling of almost being free.

+o+o

Later that night she packed. As she was deciding what clothes to put into her suitcases, she got a series of texts from Toni. At first Shelby had no idea what she was supposed to be looking at because the photos they contained were so blurry, but as more texts came they resolved themselves into a miniature picture book of sorts. There were two very bad photos of what looked like Toni's hand but it was hard to tell if she'd been trying show her something and anyway without an accompanying caption, they wouldn't make much sense regardless. The next photo partially pictured Martha and partially a little white plastic box. That also was not particularly helpful. The fourth photo was clearer and Shelby could make out the numbers on the white box. It was Martha's thermostat. Shelby rolled her eyes and sent Toni a text back.

_Are these from the Christmas experiment or a new experiment?_

She got more photos in lieu of an explanation. Another shot of the thermostat, set to sixty (obviously in Fahrenheit) along with an extremely ancient mercury thermometer turned the wrong direction to be read. Then a photo of a clock in which Shelby couldn't tell what time it actually was. Toni was an awful photographer. There were no more texts for about half an hour and Shelby wrote half amused half irritated:

_What the hell are you doing?_

_you can't rush science_

Then there was another photo, of the thermometer turned the right direction but too close to the phone for her to make out the reading and the clock in the background. Shelby threw down her phone sighing and wondering exactly how bored Toni and Martha must be to wander around talking pictures of Martha’s thermostat in the middle of the night. She didn't see the last photo until later, one evidently taken and sent by Martha because it was of Toni with her arm half extended as though to snatch the phone back. Her hair was apparent as a dark blur, but her eyes were clear and brown in the center of the frame. She was _beautiful_. Shelby wished she hadn't sent it.

+o+o

Shelby met Fatin and Dot at Dallas-Fort Worth Saturday morning. Quinn didn't accompany them because the meeting was meant to be primarily legal and Fatin was still acting as an epidemiological consultant for Daniel. It was a bit odd from the standpoint that Shelby couldn't remember the last time she'd actually flown somewhere _with_ either of them. They had been inseparable in that regard for a long time, but as adults if they were going to be in the same place they generally met wherever it was. She'd also forgotten that Fatin was a traveler that seemed to get by more on luck than planning, though Dot seemed to balance that out somewhat. The whole flight Shelby fidgeted, while Fatin took the opportunity to finish filling Dot in on the particulars of their trip to Galveston and Shelby’s conundrum with Toni. Shelby weighed in rather monosyllabically from time to time, mostly when Fatin started down tangents of hyperbolic conjecture. Nevertheless, it was almost cathartic to have Fatin lay it out so neatly without needing to say much herself. Somewhere over Iowa, Fatin nudged Shelby in the ribs.

"Is she going to be there when we land?" Fatin asked.

"Good Lord, you have pointy elbows," Shelby complained.

"Well?"

"Why would she be?”

“Because she has a massive crush on you?”

Shelby at her with dark miserable eyes and Fatin sighed.

“So, what are you going to do? I don’t know Minnesota labor law, but you can’t just fire her.”

"I don't see how I can do anything else."

"Are you even going to tell her or just let Daniel reassign her?"

Exhaling through her teeth, Shelby clenched her fists. "What, am I supposed to throw away my whole career because some student has a stupid crush on me?"

" _Mutual_ crush. And a crush that is fucking you up.”

Fatin didn't say anything else; she didn't need to. By the time they arrived in Minneapolis, Shelby's nerves were in shreds. After dropping Fatin and Dot at their hotel, Shelby went up to her lovely apartment in North Loop and leaned gratefully against her door, taking in the spread of her space in Minneapolis. She smiled wryly when she saw it. The bottle of Death's Door Toni had given her stood sentry on the counter, unmoved from where Toni had laid it there two weeks previous. Slowly Shelby crossed the room and picked it up, tracing her fingertips over the engraving on the glass. She still didn't know if she was doing the _right_ thing. It was the ethical thing for her as a researcher and for her as Toni's lab supervisor. But it was awful from the perspective of a friend, and purposefully precluded the possibility of anything more happening. She hoped Toni would understand when she explained, if she explained, because being half a world closer didn't make her any less of a coward.

+o+o

Daniel was on his way out of his office when Shelby met him, still in her coat, having not been to lab yet to shed it in the bay she shared with Nora. She'd spent too long in the corridor trying to pluck up the courage to speak to him. As it was, she had to hustle after him, pulling her bag higher onto her shoulder.

"Oh, good morning, Shelby," he said. "Good holiday?"

For a beat, the rush of things that had happened in the preceding sixteen days flooded her in anger and anxiety. She managed to say with only a slight twinge of sarcasm:

"Yes, great. And you?"

"Can't complain. Are you going to our meeting with your friend the lawyer?"

Shelby frowned. "Daniel, I thought—"

"I apologize. Dot, I should say."

"Yes, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh? And what can I do for you?"

Shelby swallowed. "It's about Toni."

"That partnership has turned out well."

It took no small degree of self-control not to wince at the word "partnership." "Yes, but…maybe she'd do better reassigned elsewhere."

"I thought she was quite adept at lab work."

"She is."

"And she works hard?"

"Incredibly hard."

"And you get along, it seems."

"Yes." Shelby didn't add "too well" though she thought it reluctantly.

Daniel's forehead creased in confusion. "Has there been something to change your opinion of her, then?"

Shelby couldn't very well tell Daniel the truth. She couldn't tell him that she kissed Toni at the MMF dinner and she didn't know whether she was coming or going most of the time. She couldn't tell him that the very thought of seeing Toni again made her extremities tingle with adrenaline. And she also wouldn't lie to him. Toni was a _good_ assistant, as good as she could have asked for and it would be a massive discredit to her loyalty and effort to have her shunted off like she'd been terrible. Ashamed, Shelby quickly shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said at length. "There's just going to be a lot of work and I didn't think it'd be fair to ask her to put in that many hours and go to her classes."

"Oh, is that all, then?" Daniel replied with a grin. "Then I have good new for you. GTW has pushed back the data delivery schedule. They're thinking sometime in early March rather than a few weeks. Do you think that will buy you and Toni enough time?"

"What? Back to March? That gives us an extra six weeks."

"Yes, I was relieved by that announcement, too. Unreasonable to expect you to optimize an antibody assay all alone in a month's time and finish everything else as well."

Shelby nodded in agreement as they entered the conference room. It was smaller than the one they'd used in December because they had the benefit of not needing to seat the entire clinic staff. The meeting was supposed to be a closed one, exclusively attended by the upper echelon. Shelby and Daniel represented the lab and Nora, as the clinician, represented the clinic. Also at the table were Dot, Fatin, a university lawyer, two patent agents, and her favorite idiot from Vac Tech, Kurt Hamilton.

But then Shelby saw her, and for a few seconds, she couldn't even breathe. Toni Shalifoe sat at the table, her iPad out and ready. She glanced up as Shelby stopped dead on the threshold, her expression inscrutable. Toni didn't even smile. She just looked at Shelby with such open eyes Shelby could feel the pull in her chest. It was folly to ever have thought she could just walk away from Toni. It was too easy to think with four states and a hell of a lot of corn fields between them that Shelby could come back to anything but the finely tuned buzz that reverberated in her teeth like the hum of a tuning fork. She knew the tremor of Toni's nearness and it sang at a frequency that resonated with her own.

"Ah, Toni," Daniel said, breaking their silent, motionless commune. "Come to sit in?”

Toni nodded without really acknowledging what he said, her eyes never leaving Shelby's face. Shelby blushed hard, and took a seat beside Nora with her pulse racing. It couldn't have been more than a moment or two, that look, but Shelby flushed deeper feeling like it must have been hours. Oblivious, Nora grinned.

"Hey, Shelby," Nora said, as Shelby wriggled out of her coat. "When did you get back?"

Shelby, however, assiduously tried to act like she was alone in the room. On the other side of the table, Fatin rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh as Toni went back to looking at her iPad as though Shelby wasn't dying less than five feet away. Fatin couldn't exactly kick Shelby under the table without prompting considerable suspicion so on the pretext of saying something to Nora, she stood up and went around to them.

Naturally, Nora and Fatin hit it off again straight away and were deep in conversation about some of Fatin's other assignments when the meeting started. Toni hadn't looked back toward Shelby or done anything else to acknowledge her presence since Shelby's initial reaction, but Shelby was still on edge as the meeting wore on. Occasionally she would glance up to see Toni focused on whoever was speaking, and she couldn't help thinking about the traitorous thing she'd almost done to her that morning.

It didn't matter that she kept watching Toni's hands as they slipped over the surface of the tablet Shelby had given her. It didn't matter that she was committing to memory the angle that formed between forefinger and thumb as she rested her chin in her palm. She'd simply find her after the meeting and explain. It was the best she could hope for. Shelby was actually surprised when the meeting drew to a close two hours later. It hardly felt like any time at all, but instead of panic Shelby began to feel worried when Toni picked up her backpack and made to leave. She couldn't go without giving Shelby a chance to talk to her. Hastily piling her papers together, Shelby started to cram them in her bag, when Kurt Hamilton accosted her.

"Shelby, you're looking very nice today," Kurt said to her, having apparently decided he'd been too subtle on his previous visit.

"Kurt, sorry, I just—" Shelby mumbled as she tried to skirt around him to get to the door.

"Please, Shelby, call me Ham. I'm really happy to see you again." His stocky frame prevented her from escaping as he gripped her arms and she glared at him, knowing every moment she was delayed would make it harder for her to catch Toni before she vanished.

"I have somewhere to be."

"Is it somewhere I could walk you maybe?"

"No, that's—"

Shelby stowed the last of her papers still trying to twist free, movements becoming more sluggish as she realized she was far too late and Toni would be gone. Sighing in frustration, she looked up to tell Hamilton off for good, professional decorum be damned, only to find Toni hadn't gone after all. She stood very close to Shelby, almost touching the point of Shelby's shoulder as she calmly stared Hamilton down without a trace of amusement on her face. Very slowly, he let Shelby go and backed away. Her posture could only be described as _possessive_ , assertive and treacherously tranquil.

“Touch her again and I’ll punt your testicles into fucking orbit,” Toni said quietly, the softest suggestion of a growl in her voice. “Does she have a tattoo on her forehead screaming ‘hit on me?’ I’ll—"

Reaching out, Shelby touched the back of her hand, meshing her fingers with Toni’s and pulling her back. She was half his size and could never have taken him in a fight, but Toni made it clear to anyone who cared to look that no one was going to bother Shelby in front of her. Without waiting a second longer, Shelby led her from the room and Toni went willingly, trailing her down the corridor into the same closet they'd met in once before. The atmosphere couldn't have been more dissimilar, tense and charged rather than light-hearted and teasing. Toni let the door slam shut, rounding on Shelby.

“I’ll fucking kill that guy,” she ground out, but the rest of the words died in her throat as she looked up into Shelby’s eyes.

Shelby pushed her backward, matching her movement for movement until she was trapped there against the wall. So far back Toni's face was tipped up to maintain eye contact with her breath soft on Shelby’s skin. Toni's gaze shifted down, twice, flickering between Shelby's eyes and her mouth. Shelby could smell her, all lust and soap, feel the warmth of her body even through their clothes and the intervening air. Involuntarily, Shelby's hand slipped beneath the hem of Toni's top, palm against the curve of her waist, over her hipbone. The pad of her thumb stroked the taut muscle there, and Toni closed her hand over Shelby's letting that tenuous link bind them together, at once too much and not enough. The questions and uncertainty were dissolving, becoming liquid against the beat of her own pounding heart. They couldn’t and yet her lips parted and her jaw trembled with anticipation because she needed to feel Toni yield to her.

The voice in the hall that broke the spell, and somehow dragged Shelby's eyes from Toni toward the door. Then Toni pushed Shelby's hand away, her fingertips lingering overlong against Shelby’s, making her twist back and Toni spun her, pinned her hard by the shoulders as she pressed their foreheads together. Let out an actual fucking audible noise of frustration before retreating a few paces, unsteady as though Shelby _had_ kissed her. If she'd been going to say something, she didn't get the chance because the next instant, someone opened the door and Toni collided with a startled Nora as she burst into the hall. Nora was too busy watching Toni to notice Shelby as she slumped on the wall, arm barely supporting her weight against the concrete blocking.

"Hey, where are you going?" Nora asked Toni, without looking at Shelby.

Shelby closed her eyes, taking several deep shaky breaths. She looked imploringly up at the ceiling before swallowing. She forced herself upright onto unwilling legs, not entirely certain she wouldn’t just collapse completely.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Nora said in alarm.

Shelby nodded, still trying to get her breathing under control.

"You sure? Did something happen with Toni?"

"No, she just—no. It's fine."

"Well, I was sent to find you because you and I still need to see the patent agents about the language for the adjuvant."

"Yeah, sorry. I forgot."

Nora walked slightly ahead of Shelby as she came up behind, arms crossed over her chest. She flexed her right hand a few times, spreading her fingers to their widest extension before crumpling them into a fist again.

"Dot thought we should go out together for dinner as a group later," Nora was saying.

Passing a hand over her face, Shelby nodded again. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"What? Sorry, yeah, I'm fine."

Nora's look clearly said she thought Shelby was an awful liar, but she didn't say anything else, just let Shelby maintain her preoccupied silence as they went back to the conference room. It wasn't until they were in the middle of talks with the patent agents that Shelby had a strange thought. If kissing Toni Shalifoe brought the world crashing down around her ears, then _not_ kissing Toni Shalifoe was worse. Infinitely, infinitely worse.


	21. Chapter 21

Unfortunately for Shelby, Fatin wasn’t blind. Or deaf. Or inattentive. She’d reveled in Toni’s confrontation with Kurt Hamilton like a witch bathing in the tears of virgins and Shelby received several unfortunate text messages to prove it. Shelby successfully hid from Toni for the rest of the day, or supposed she was successfully hiding because the Minnesotan hadn’t found her. Shelby couldn’t be sure Toni was actually looking, either. Maybe they were hiding from each other. In any case, Fatin gathered Shelby and Dot together for a debrief at the conclusion of the meetings around 4pm. Dot and Shelby arrived first, sitting together at a table in a drafty corner.

“You hate Starbucks,” Dot said. “Why are we at Starbucks?”

Shelby craned her neck as she leaned across the table, trying to get a view across the light rail tracks at the Caribou Coffee on the other side.

“Because,” said Shelby in a slightly strained voice, “Toni always goes to the Caribou. When she goes.”

“Ah, right. The coffee thing.”

Shelby cast her a disapproving look, but didn’t say anything else. In the distance, she could see Fatin approaching from Moos Tower, her camel-colored coat wrapped around her slim frame. She settled back, toying with a wooden coffee stirrer as they waited. Fatin came in with a blast of cold air, scanning the tables, then noticed them with a dramatic roll of her eyes, before dropping into a chair and pulling her gloves off.

“I’d like to start off by thanking you for your attendance,” Fatin announced.

“It’s not like we had a choice,” Dot replied.

“I’ve called this emergency session of the ‘HSGL Society’ in order—”

“What does that stand for?”

“The ‘Help Shelby Get Laid Society’.”

“Fatin!” Shelby objected.

“Ahem, we have convened in order to deconstruct the events of this morning and democratically determine the best course of action.”

“I don’t—”

“Which means I will determine the best course of action because Dot is just going to vote with me.”

Dot shrugged. “The woman has a point.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Shelby interrupted, “this is a non-issue. I cannot do this. Toni is in our study and—”

“What’s she going to do? Run down the ethics committee chair and out you?" Both Fatin and Dot narrowed their eyes at the same moment.

“Fatin, phrasing,” Dot said.

“Maybe _not_ my best word choice.”

Shelby glared at them. “I’m glad y’all think this is so damn hilarious because this is extremely serious. Do you realize how serious?”

That was a response Fatin had evidently not been expecting and her expression sobered significantly as she became contemplative. Dot cocked her head, looking at Shelby for a long moment.

“That Toni has balls of brass,” Fatin said. “She's got that going for her."

Shelby pressed one hand over her eyes. “Daniel wasn’t…upset, was he?”

“To be honest he looked impressed,” said Dot with a laugh. “It was about time somebody put Kurt in his place.”

“Oh, no. Goddammit, Toni.”

“It was amazing,” Fatin rejoined.

“I just don’t want her getting in trouble over this.”

“Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to assume you two made out in that closet earlier, which, you know, the _irony_ but—”

“Fatin!”

“Is there an echo? Everyone seems to be saying my name a lot.”

“Nothing happened! I—we—Nora came in and…” Shelby closed her eyes and exhaled in a loud, exasperated burst.

“Shelby,” Dot said, far more gently than Fatin had ever done anything. “All jokes at your expense aside— _Fatin_ —we are here to help you. You know, I bet she hasn’t even thought of the study being a problem. You need to talk to her.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. I think if you go and talk to her, you’ll find out you should give this a shot.”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Promise me you’ll go?”

Leaning her cheek against her fist, Fatin grinned at her. “If it doesn’t work out, you are a hot piece of ass, Shelby Goodkind. There are other fish in the sea.”

“Ew, Fatin.”

“What?”

Dot motioned at Shelby. “Our girl is barely hanging on as it is here!”

“I was trying to help!”

Shelby started to laugh as they went back and forth, the combination of the two of them giving her the courage she needed to try. Shelby didn't go straight away. She figured if she wasn't going to be hiding anymore she ought to go get some work in lab done. There was a note on her desk waiting for her from Nora.

_Toni is running out of samples. She needs guidance on what to do next._

Fuck. Nora couldn't realize how many layers of meaning that last sentence had. Toni probably did need instruction on what to do next, if only Shelby could figure out what it was exactly she wanted Toni to do. There was science to be done, however, so she put in around six hours, finishing up just shy of midnight. As she was pulling into her garage, she noticed a hooded figure leaning against the front of the building. It was ten below so either the person was crazy or freakishly impervious to the cold. Shelby tensed as the figure approached the car slowly, then realized with a sinking feeling that the person was Toni. God, how long had she been standing there waiting? Shelby pointed into the garage, making it clear she intended to park and Toni nodded, leaning back against the brick.

Shelby briefly debated whether she should go back out or run. Just leave the building and sprint up Washington Avenue ice be damned. Or more sanely, go up to her apartment like Toni wasn't freezing outside. Finally, after several false starts, she pulled the zip on her parka up to her chin and pushed through the door to the street. Toni looked up at her, and it was so cold it was impossible to tell if she was smoking a cigarette or just breathing, steady long clouds of white in the air. She pushed off the wall as Shelby neared, pressing back her hood. She was careful, keeping a respectable distance from Shelby.

"What’s wrong with you?" Shelby asked, harsher than she had intended.

“Yeah, I could ask you the same,” Toni replied.

"It's cold out here."

“No fucking kidding.”

Shelby started to answer, but found her voice was shaking and she stopped. She hoped it was just the cold because the alternative was that she was frightened of Toni and she hated feeling so pathetic in front of her.

“Can I come up?” Toni asked.

Swallowing, Shelby shook her head, slipping her hands back into her pockets. It was too much, to have Toni so close with so much that still needed to be said. Toni studied her face, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then she smirked, expression hardening as she turned and began to walk away. Shelby darted forward, closing her hand around Toni and holding her firm.

"No, that's not what I meant," Shelby said desperately, her fingers tightening on Toni's forearm. "I just—could we go somewhere? Is that…is that okay?"

Toni's head rocked back and her eyes traced the skyline for a moment before she focused on Shelby again.

“Yeah,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” Shelby said. “Somewhere we’ll actually talk and not— _not_ talk.”

She nodded slowly, then slipped her phone out to summon a ride. Wherever they were going, Shelby was going to have to work harder than leaping back in her car if she wanted to escape. Toni swarmed over the dirty snow heaped in the gutter when it arrived and opened the door for Shelby, allowing her to slip in. Then she circled the back of the car and climbed in on the left, behind the driver.

“You Toni?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Toni said. “Going down Hennepin?”

They headed south. It was only a Monday, but they were still two hours to bar close and plenty of young drunks were trying to hustle across the icy pavement against the traffic. Toni sat beside her, hands folded quietly in her lap, not attempting to engage Shelby in any way. It was too dark and Shelby was having a hard time even discerning her expression. The drive took a scant five minutes, putting them somewhere close to Lake of the Isles, outside a trendy part of the city called Lowry Hill. As they emerged from the car, Toni jerked her head toward the outside of squat well-lit building with a bus shelter blocking the windows. It was a cafe of some kind. Toni led the way in, and took a table with a nod to one of the waiters.

"Hi, Toni," the boy said. "The regular?"

It seemed Toni was a frequent visitor at this hour then, since the staff knew her and she had a "regular" thing that she ordered.

"Oh, who's your friend?" the boy went on noticing Shelby.

“Hey, Zach,” Toni said. “This is Shelby.”

"Hi, Shelby," he said, shaking her hand. "I'm Zach, nice to meet you."

"Yeah, likewise," Shelby said.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Um, some coffee maybe?”

He grinned, and suddenly Shelby wondered if he was accustomed to seeing Toni with female companions in tow. For a stupidly long time, they just sat there. Toni played idly with her phone while Shelby opened her mouth to speak only to shut it again and glance around at everything but Toni. Pushing her hair behind one ear, Shelby cleared her throat as she looked down at the damaged veneer on the table. She jumped as Toni gently touched her ankle with her booted foot. Toni hadn't laughed, hadn't mocked her or pushed her about anything. Whatever was about to happen Toni was taking it deadly seriously.

“Well, we’re here,” Toni said. “You wanted to talk?”

Toni evidently wasn't going to let her hide anymore, and if that meant they carried out the whole damn exchange in fits and starts, sitting across a mildly greasy cafe table, then she would do it. So Shelby took a deep breath and answered.

“I do,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat and said more loudly, “I do.”

“Okay, well, I’m still waiting.”

Shelby started steeling herself when Zach returned, giving them each a coffee. Unable to resist, Shelby raised her eyebrows slightly in question.

“Surprised you’re trusting me with coffee here,” said Shelby.

Toni chuckled. “I’m willing to risk it.”

“About—earlier in the closet—”

Toni sat up straighter, reaching over her cup to take a sugar packet from the dish between them. “I don’t even know where to begin on whatever the fuck that hot mess was, but first I think we should talk about you.”

“Me? Like what about me?”

“I don’t know. Just talk to me. Tell me about Christmas.”

“It was boring. Nothing to tell.”

“You are such a bad liar. Like it’s kind of unreal.”

Somehow she knew she could lie to Toni all night and that it wouldn't get her anywhere. The fluorescent lights were overbright for the hour, rendering them both paler than they actually were, but Toni was still gorgeous, the set of her shoulders like she didn't care about any of it. Did Toni still think she was beautiful, almost makeup less, exhausted and flagging in that unflattering light? Shelby looked around helplessly, not sure where to begin, but Toni took the decision from her hands by asking something else.

“Okay. Let’s start with Galveston. Like you just had a hit of nostalgia for the Pleasure Pier so midnight road trip?”

Shelby laughed in spite of herself. “Did you look that up?”

“What? No. There’s like this carnival on a pier, right?”

“You totally looked that up.”

Toni shrugged tetchily. “I don’t know. You texted me and I was like, ‘Oh, Galveston. Where’s that on a map?’ It was a natural fucking response!”

“Well, you’re right. I couldn’t bear the thought of going one more day without a ride on the Iron Shark.”

“What the hell? You gotta help me out there. I’m just picturing a mechanical bull situation, but a shark.” Raising her eyebrows, Toni swam one hand through the air.

“Mmm-hmm, eight seconds of pure piscine terror.”

Toni regarded her with slightly amazed confusion, then realized she was being fucked with and threw the sugar packet at Shelby. “Fuck off. You know I’m sheltered. That shit is not funny.”

Finally relaxing a little more, Shelby laughed fully, feeling that familiar warm rush as Toni smiled, too. “It’s a rollercoaster. Big vertical drop right at the beginning. Swings out over the water.”

“That sounds dope.”

“I haven’t been since I was about twelve, I think.”

“We should go.”

“I’d love that.” She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but it just felt right, so normal in the moment.

“You didn’t answer my question though. About why you were in Galveston.”

Shelby sighed. “Stuff at home. With my dad.”

Toni examined the screen of her phone for a moment. Then she turned it to Shelby, displaying a bright photo of Dave standing in front of GoodkindTaylorWise logo, the company's horrible slogan _Keep your family good and kind_ printed over Dave’s suit jacket. Shelby nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s my dad.”

“Was it about the vaccine?” Toni asked.

Shelby managed a laugh; she wished the fight had been about the vaccine. “No, not exactly.”

“What happened?”

Hesitating, Shelby dropped her chin, then met Toni’s gaze. “It was about me. The kind of person I am.”

“You seem fine to me.”

“No, like…the people…” Shelby’s voice died in an anxious whisper, unable to keep eye contact anymore. “I just want to be myself.”

“Yeah.” Toni nodded, still looking at her. “I get it.”

Panicking slightly, Shelby took a sip of coffee. It was warm and fragrant, but rather weak. She clutched the mug handle, aching with indecision. In the end, Toni shrugged with another understanding nod.

“So you went to Galveston to…find yourself?” Toni asked.

“That was pure running away.”

“You’re fast, I’ll give you that.”

“I’ve had lots of practice.”

Shifting, Toni moved into the corner, half propped against the wall with her left elbow on the table. She rested her bad leg on a nearby chair, her right knee visible over the tabletop.

“Why _did_ you become a scientist?” Toni asked.

“I was groomed for it,” Shelby replied. “I never really had a choice.”

“I only remember you were fucking pissed when GTW started funding the trial.”

Shelby toyed with the sugar packet Toni had thrown at her. “I finally had something that was mine. You know, that no one engineered for me. It was nice.”

“To be proud of something?”

“Or at least not ashamed.”

“Do you want to go back to GTW?”

It was a question Shelby asked herself often, and her opinion on it changed as often as the phase of the moon. Hell, sometimes she thought it was influenced by the phase of the moon. Shelby wasn't ready to say anything about it, though, and answered Toni's question with another question.

“What’s the thing you’ve done, that you’re most proud of?”

“Definitely my high score at minesweeper.”

Toni maintained a completely straight face as Shelby digested it, cracking a tiny smirk only when Shelby's eyes widened in disbelief. She touched Shelby's ankle again beneath the table.

“Parents get a weird hold on you,” she said.

“I…I don’t know how to ask this,” Shelby said, “and you don’t have to answer, but…do you mind me asking? About your parents?”

For the first time, Toni showed some genuine discomfort, her mouth twisting as she stared grimly across the room. “My dad’s been a no show since day one and my mom is in and out of rehab like it’s a fucking White Castle.”

Shelby sat silently for a moment. “I don’t know what to say.”

“At least people expect things from you. No one expects shit from me.”

“I expect shit from you. Martha, Nora, Daniel. You deliver all the time, Toni.”

“I’m just a broken ex-basketball player with no family.”

“Not to me.”

The words were sharp and hard, angry, and Toni glared up at her with hackles raised, all visceral response to the tone of her voice, ready to shout back. But then the tight coil of her loosened, and she looked suddenly small as she sat back biting her bottom lip.

“Do you still see her?” Shelby asked.

“Sometimes. If I can find her. When she hasn’t been kicked out of her sober house or Oxford house or whatever court ordered bullshit flavor of the month it is.”

“Is…is it alcohol…or drugs?”

“Showing your innocence there, Texas,” Toni said derisively.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask about drug of choice? It’s not polite.”

“Oh. Am I not?”

“That’s what they say at those stupid meetings. I don’t know about you, but I prefer knowing. Like is this a meth-head or is this bitch is just gonna nod out? It’s a different fucking vibe.”

Taking a deep breath, she held her hand out to Toni, holding it an inch over the veneer with her fingers extended. It took Toni a few seconds, but she tentatively slid her forearm across the table and touched her. After everything, the gesture felt insufficient, such a small and inadequate thing, and yet the contact warmed and comforted. It made her heart ache and she thought all at once that she’d never known pain or loneliness like Toni must. The feeling that suffused her wasn’t pity, it was some other nameless thing that made her want to draw Toni close to her and protect her, hurt anyone who harmed her again.

“Toni,” she said. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah.” Toni shrugged. “I guess thanks for wanting to know. People don’t usually care.”

Toni sighed and looked away, withdrawing just out of reach. Folding her arm in, Shelby willed away the sensation of Toni’s skin, picking up a creamer to feel its edges against her palm.

“Tell me a secret,” Toni said.

“I’m too sober for this game.”

“Sober secrets are the best secrets.”

Taking a deep breath, Shelby swallowed. So they'd come down to it. They were going to have to talk about it. Shelby exhaled, shoving the creamer away so that it skittered and collided with the salt. Forcing herself, Shelby gave voice to the thing that had been eating at her for almost three weeks, only it didn't end up coming out the way she intended.

"You asked me why I ended up in Galveston,” Shelby said in a rush, “and I didn’t give you an answer.”

“No?” Toni replied, sounding vaguely bewildered. “I guess not?”

“My family is Southern Baptist. The reason—” Shelby sighed, pressing the shape of her silver cross into her collarbone with her thumb. “The reason I didn’t—in Dallas, was because…everything I was raised to believe—wrong and hateful—”

She growled deep in the back of her throat, frustrated at her inability to just finish the damn sentence. Seeming to give up her, Toni started stacking the sugar packets into a tower. Shelby unconsciously wet her lips as she glanced down at her coffee and heart beating fast, she said quickly:

“I ended up in Galveston…everything was going wrong because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and everyone could see it but me.”

For a second Toni seemed to consider, then she looked back down at her sugar packet structure and as the cogs ticked into place, she accidentally knocked the whole thing over.

“What?” she asked.

Shelby plowed on, saying, “I don’t want to pretend I’m not still working this all out, because I am, but…”

Toni’s head had taken on an incredulous angle, but she sat without speaking, looking as though she was waiting for Shelby to reveal it was all an elaborate prank. The courage that had carried her through the confession ebbed, sinking into the pit of her stomach like a stone. Across from her, Toni buried her face in her hands.

“Are you…are you not going to say anything?” Shelby asked cautiously.

“Fuck, Shelby,” Toni said at length.

She laughed nervously, unable to bear the tension. “I guess, with everything, that’s not the reaction I’d hoped for.”

“You can’t drop this on me when we have months of testing left! How am I supposed to deal with—when you look at me and—ugh!”

“I know…it’s not ideal.”

“Not ideal?! This is just fucking cruel!”

Toni exhaled slowly, rubbing her fingertips against her eyes, and all Shelby wanted was to kiss her all over again, ethics committees and her father and decorum be damned. Shelby pushed to her feet so swiftly she knocked her chair backward so it nearly toppled over, wobbling on the polished concrete flooring. She circled the table and dropped onto her knees beside Toni, reaching up and wrapping her hand around the back of Toni’s neck.

“You’re a good scientist,” Toni said softly, resisting. “Don’t wreck that for me.”

“I’m not.”

“Hey.” Toni gentled her yet again, letting Shelby rest their foreheads together. “I’m not going to lecture you on how or why or how fast you should figure things out for yourself, but you still have a lot to process.”

“And I will. You’re right.”

Toni hummed sadly. “I know I’m right.”

“But saying you weren’t right, there would have to be some rules.”

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist being so close to Toni without doing something stupid, and evidently Toni thought so, too, because she writhed away and pointed to the other chair.

“Go back over there. If I get mono, we’re both fucked.”

Shelby retreated obediently, and retook her old chair.

“Like it or not you need me until the testing is done, yeah?”

As loath as she was to admit it, she did. “Until March. Yes.”

“Okay, then I help with the testing until March.”

“Then you withdraw from the study?”

“Well, I—”

“No, you need the honorarium, don’t you?”

For a few moments, Toni gave every appearance of wanting to argue, but then she seemed to think better of it and simply nodded.

“What if I gave you the money?”

“Did you seriously just offer to pay me to be your girlfriend?”

Shelby frowned. “Wait, no. That’s not what I meant.”

“No to the paying me or no to the girlfriend? Because if it’s no to the girlfriend, that’s just prostitution with extra steps.”

“I meant no to the—don’t change the subject!”

“That was extremely on subject.”

“I swear to God, Toni Shalifoe, do not—.”

Toni shook her head, waving her hands. “No, forget that. I get my fifty a week until March, then I quit.”

“And maybe we…avoid touching and such until then.”

“Yeah, probably for the best.”

“And then we go slow? Just see where we get?”

“Right, fair enough.”

“Okay, it’s a plan. A nice sensible plan.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“This is a good idea.”

“This is a fucking terrible idea. The _worst_ idea.”

It was a bad idea. Shelby knew in her heart that it was, but a deeper more primal part of her had latched onto the potential and wouldn’t let Toni go. She looked at Toni’s worried face and couldn’t not laugh, a combination of fear and delirium and relief that bubbled out of her in a series of suppressed giggles.

“Why do I look more stressed about this than you do?” Toni demanded.

“Oh, I’m stressed,” Shelby told her. “I’m stressed with a capital S, but I’m so tired if I don’t laugh, I’m gonna cry. You think maybe we could go sleep on whatever just happened and reconvene in the morning?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s been kind of a rollercoaster.”

Shelby raised her eyebrows. “Better or worse than the Iron Shark?”

“I’m _still_ picturing a mechanical shark bull thing. Until I see this shit with my own eyes, you cannot convince me this motherfucker is a rollercoaster.”

“I can’t believe this. I’m risking my career for an amusement park conspiracy theorist.”

Visibly pleased to have grounded her a bit, Toni smiled. “You can’t keep the people from the truth.”

They paid for the coffees and said good-bye to Zach. He didn't seem put out about having to give up an hour at one of his tables for a couple of girls talking and ordering nothing but the cheap house blend. Hailing them another car on the corner, Toni let Shelby tell the driver her address in North Loop. They sat on opposite sides of the back seat, gazing out their respective windows as the wintry city passed by. For the first several blocks, they might have been two strangers sharing a park bench, but then Toni's hand crept, without looking, to touch hers on the seat between them.

Already playing with the fucking rules, despite all their mutual protests, and Shelby almost took her hand back but how could she when she’d spent weeks wishing for it? She bit her lip as their fingertips brushed, locking and tracing, learning the texture of knuckles and the swirling patterns of thumbprints. It was sweetly affectionate, until the circles Toni drew on her palm shivered up her arm in a wave. If she could be patient, if she could be brave, she could tip the powder keg. She didn't look back at Toni until she was climbing from the car. The girl's profile was shadowed by the streetlight, but she was smiling, face still averted to the street beyond.


	22. Chapter 22

She slept like the dead. When Shelby woke with a start at 8:30am, she realized with a bleary look at her watch she’d completely overslept and was going to be late if she didn’t immediately get up and go. She glanced down at herself, saw she still had most of her clothes on, and for one long insane second thought she must have dreamt the whole disaster because between the Iron Shark and the rules about the not-dating it was too surreal to be any reflection on real life. Then she remembered the touch of Toni’s fingertips on her palm, and no, that just reinforced the whole dream concept. Reaching for her phone, she decided she really, really needed to stop processing her emotions at 2am because it was wreaking absolute havoc on her sleep schedule. First order of business, text Dot and Fatin to excuse herself is she ended up tardy.

_Guys, I’m so sorry. Overslept. On my way._

Fatin was in fine form for the hour. _Is that what we’re calling it these days?_

_Genuinely overslept._

_High five Toni for me_

Shelby rolled her eyes and sighed. Fine, work taken care of. Second order of business, text Toni and probe the fuzzy dream state of her memory.

_Hey_

_smooth opener, texas_

_Good morning?_

_see you later_

Well, that wasn’t very fucking helpful. Not helpful at all. By the time she actually got to work, Dot and Fatin were trapped with Daniel, Kurt and the regulatory consultant. Nora wasn’t present for whatever reason, which she counted as a small blessing given the exaggerated open-mouthed grin Fatin gave her as soon as she crossed the threshold. Dot’s smile was a little more discreet, but encouraging nevertheless. Glancing up at the wall clock, she was gratified to see she’d made it with a minute to spare.

“How did it go?” Fatin asked.

“How did what go?” Shelby replied evasively.

“Please don’t tell me you chickened out and didn’t do it.”

Shelby’s eyes followed Daniel as he stood up to connect his laptop to the projector. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re only out of this until this meeting is over. Then you are mine, Goodkind.”

“More importantly,” Dot interrupted. “Are you okay, Shelby? Everything cool?”

Half smiling, Shelby nodded. “Yeah, Dottie. Thanks for asking.”

“Hey, I was asking, too!” Fatin grumbled.

Shelby gently squeezed her forearm in recognition and they didn’t get the chance to say anything else before the meeting started. Shelby’s reprieve from interrogation ended up being rather longer than Fatin would have liked as she was immediately detained by Daniel and led off to discuss with one of the public health experts. Fatin mouthed several incomprehensible things to Shelby and Dot over her shoulder, and finally finished up by pointing two fingers at Shelby to indicate she was being watched. Waving goodbye, Shelby smiled her most diplomatic pageant smile until she left the room and then turned to Dot. She cast a single appraising glance at Hamilton to evaluate his appetite for more annoyances, but he scampered away quite quickly without looking at Shelby at all. Well, hell. Toni really got to him. Was that pride she was feeling? A mixture of pride, gratitude, amusement—other things, too, which she did not enjoy feeling while standing in front of Dot.

“What are you going to do with your two hours of freedom?” Dot asked.

“I love Fatin,” said Shelby, “and I’ll be grateful to her forever, but I’m glad it’s just us for a little bit.”

“Did you talk to you know who?”

“Yes?”

Dot laughed. “Why is that a question?”

“I don’t know. Like I haven’t seen her today and I guess I’m…afraid I made it all up?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I’m sure I will, but…”

“I get it. You want to see her. Make sure you’re all agreed or whatever.”

Appreciative of Dot taking the initiative to fill in the blanks, Shelby dipped her chin in agreement.

“You really are sick of talking about stuff.”

“I’m not sure if sick is the right word, but things are real different than they were three weeks ago.”

“I’ll get Fatin to back off a little.”

“I’m a little unsettled is all. What if she’s thought better of it?”

Dot shook her head. “What did you even decide to do?”

“I’ll come by and tell you both later, okay? Do you mind if I?” She motioned in the vague direction of the lab.

“Go see your girl. Get some reassurance—because you _will_. Then come and see us later.”

Shelby nodded, anxious but readying herself to see Toni. “Your girl.” Shelby trailed back to the lab thinking on it, obsessing over it, the casualness of it. She wasn’t sure if she loved it or hated it. If it all went well, Toni would be. Ugh, and she had no idea if she was ready for it at all, even with the months of testing barring them from more than making meaningful eye contact from time to time. She walked in to find Nora sitting looking perplexed at her desk. The doctor greeted her with uncharacteristic relief.

"Oh, you're still alive," she said. "You kind of vanished yesterday. I didn’t know what to tell Daniel.”

"I didn't need you to perjure yourself," Shelby replied, setting her bag down.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Well, that's great because things have not been good here. Look at this!"

Nora opened up the top drawer of her lab bench to reveal approximately thirty tiny cut outs of Daniel's portrait scattered about like confetti. She opened the next drawer. It was possibly worse.

"Are they all like that?" Shelby asked, mildly horrified.

"Every one. Check yours."

Shelby popped open the door on a cabinet and had her shoes deluged with an avalanche of little pictures.

"Where did these come from?" said Shelby, still standing in a sea of Daniel.

"I have no clue," Nora said. "I just came in this morning and found them. Someone's idea of a joke, I guess."

"Do you have any enemies you need to tell me about?"

"Just that old cryostat that keeps ruining my slides. Think Daniel's having a fit of ego mania?"

Flipping up one of the lids on a tip box, Shelby found yet another photo of Daniel glued to the inside. "They're _everywhere_."

"Oh, God, they come in different sizes." Nora had located a version where a large Daniel had been taped over a smaller Daniel over a smaller Daniel in the manner of a Matryoshka doll. "Do you think they hit all the parts of the lab?"

Nora's suspicion was carried out as they found photos of Daniel hidden in the flammables cabinet, boxes of reagents in the freezer, and even soggy and sunk in the water bath. Shelby replaced the cover to the water bath with an annoyed sigh.

"We're going to be finding these things for weeks, aren't we?" Shelby asked Nora grimly.

"Well, let's go clean this shit up," Nora said reluctantly. "Like that's what I wanted to do with my morning."

Muffled squeaky boot tread could be heard coming down the hall, and a small nervous smile played at the corner of Shelby's mouth because she knew without looking that it was Toni. She glanced up just as Toni rounded the doorway, and had to bite her lip because while sleep deprivation staved off the worst of the nerves, the impending appearance of Toni filled her with a sudden dread. Toni didn't pause as she came in, but her eyes immediately went to Shelby's as she shrugged out of her backpack. She hadn’t dreamt it, right? The talk was supposed to diffuse the tension. It was supposed to make it easier to work with Toni without complications hanging over both of them, but if anything, it only made it worse and Shelby could feel it as Toni's gaze lingered on her.

"Shelby," Nora said again.

"What?" Shelby replied, finally dragging her eyes away from Toni.

"Tell her about the Danieling."

"The what?"

"We've been Danieled!"

Toni, however, found out for herself three seconds later when she went to lay her bag down on her desk. Picking up one of the pictures, she examined one of the larger photos with an intrigued frown.

“What the ever-living fuck is this?” Toni asked.

She felt more than heard Toni approach her from behind until she was practically vibrating with her nearness as she peeked around Shelby's shoulder at two dozen Daniel's smiling up at them. Shelby didn’t know quite what she expected it would be like, but Toni kept a reasonable distance from her, leaning over the bench far enough to meet her gaze. Shelby regarded her, waiting for some word or sign that affirmed to her that Toni still felt the same.

“What are we doing today?” she asked.

Taken somewhat aback, Shelby scrutinized her for another moment before saying, “More strain typing.”

“Okay.” Toni lifted one of the binders down from the shelf and opened it. “How many do you want to try to get through today?”

“Am I…I’m starting to feel like—” She glanced over her shoulder for Nora, continuing in a whisper, “We did see each other last night, didn’t we?”

Toni gave her own look of confusion. “I…is this a riddle? I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer this.”

“I’m starting to feel like I dreamt it all and—”

“Do you wish you dreamt it all?”

“All I remember is going from talking about the Galveston Pleasure Pier and then I said I was going to pay you and—see, I sound crazy.”

Toni looked away, reaching for a rack of tubes which she fidgeted with until all their labels faced out. “If you want to call it, then just say so. I’m happy to do or not do whatever.”

“No.” Shelby sighed. “Not what I was trying to say at all. That stuff last night. I meant it, if you still do. Are we on the same page?”

“Well, I thought so until two seconds ago.”

“I know I’m still figuring things out but…” Instead of going on, she changed the subject. “You made an impression on Kurt Hamilton.”

Toni didn’t miss a beat. “Fuck that guy. Seriously. What an asshole.”

Shelby suppressed a smile. “I didn’t thank you yesterday.”

Rocking back slightly, Toni raised her eyebrows. “Really? Are you doing this right now? It’s been—” She did the math. “—ten hours.”

Shelby regarded her, not understanding until Toni shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, assiduously flipping pages in the binder until she’d run out of them. Were they flirting? It certainly felt like it, and, unable to resist, Shelby almost said something else when Nora interrupted them.

“Why are you two whispering?” Nora asked.

“Just bitching about Daniel,” Toni replied easily. “Never know when he’s going to waltz in.”

“Shelby, we never whisper when we bitch about Daniel. Should we start whispering?”

“Can’t hurt,” Shelby said, surreptitiously watching Toni, trying to catch her eye.

Toni slid the rack further down the bench and set to work, but when she came back to ask again about which numbers to pull, she put both hands on Shelby’s waist as she squeezed past her. It was through lab coat and shirt and the touch was brief, but that small act of physical connection told her a thousand things that words could not. She could have stayed with Toni like that for another hour and it wouldn’t have been long enough. The rest of the workday passed easily. In fact, it was mostly wonderfully simple, with the exception of random outbursts of swearing from Nora and Toni every single time they looked in a new spot to discover yet _more_ tiny photos of Daniel. Nora was still working in their bay as Toni came to say goodbye to her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked quietly.

Shelby held her gaze, waiting several seconds to drink her in before nodding.

“Don’t overthink it. Stuff gets weird in that big brain of yours.” Toni laughed at her conflicted expression. “Bye, Texas.”

Calling after her in protest, Shelby watched her go. It was going to be a long sixty days. All in all, the first day after the agreement (as Shelby had begun to refer to it in her head) had gone remarkably well, sort of. Or perhaps as well as could be expected given she was definitely _not_ still thinking about Toni Shalifoe as she walked toward the University Hotel. She caught herself smiling in memory at Toni tossing sugar packets at her. Her adorably outraged face. She paused mid-step, shaking herself out of it because it was such a pervasive, almost constricting feeling, of wanting nothing else but to see her again. Of wanting to go and stand outside her dorm on 17th Avenue just be that little bit closer. It had been all of twenty minutes. She couldn’t possibly be missing Toni already. That was ridiculous.

She wandered slowly into the hotel lobby and took a seat near the fire to text Fatin and Dot to come down. Normally, Fatin took forever to get ready for anything, but the prospect of new gossip she’d personally cultivated was a potent incentive and both she and Dot appeared tout suite. Dot had a rather stoic air about her, no doubt from having to remind Fatin to exercise some restraint in deference to Shelby’s delicate mental state, but Fatin’s excitement was palpable. Shelby pulled her bag higher onto her shoulder.

“You want a drink?” she asked.

“Let’s go out,” said Fatin. “The minibar pricelist does not fit the venue. This is Minneapolis, not Las Vegas.”

“Nothing says like luxury like a twenty-dollar vodka,” laughed Dot.

Shelby turned to her left. “There’s a bar in the hotel actually. Down there.”

“Why didn’t we know that last night?”

“Were you two drunk slumber partying it with the minibar?”

Dot shrugged. “We were bored without you.”

Fatin led the way, indicating to the hostess they just wanted to take seats at the bar. The bar itself was unremarkable with an unfinished wood type of hipster ambiance. Shelby climbed up onto a stool between Dot and Fatin, asking for a soda water with a lime in it when it came her turn to order.

“Before we get started discussing any of this,” Shelby said carefully, tinkling the ice in her glass with the stirrer, “could we all just agree to go easy on me. Please?”

Dot nodded solemnly and Fatin replied, “Sure.”

“Well, I talked to Toni last night and we’ve agreed to wait out the testing. Then she’ll withdraw from the study and move onto a different project.”

Frowning, Fatin looked at her in dismay. “That’s…annoyingly mature of you. I thought we were going to get at least another month of drama out of this but…damn.”

“That’s great, Shelby,” Dot said with a grin. “I told you she’d understand.”

“She was just like, ‘Okay, cool. I’ll wait for you.’?”

Shelby raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, actually. She was…” Wonderful? Amazing? Patient? Too good for her? She couldn’t land on the right adjective.

“So, you’ve gone from completely in the closet to having a girlfriend in three weeks. That’s got to be a record.”

“She’s not—"

“Your girlfriend? She is _waiting_ for you like you’re in a war movie, Shelby. That’s so disgustingly romantic I want to throw up.”

Shelby fidgeted, mumbling, “Not really out of the…you know what, either.”

“Hey, we talked about this. It’s all baby steps. You did the most important part. You got Toni in the sack.”

“In the bag?” Dot corrected.

Waving her hand, Fatin gulped down some of her drink. “Sack, bag, whatever.”

“You did that on purpose.”

Shelby ignored her and took a deep breath. “There’s…been something else that I’ve been wanting to ask you about.”

Looking interested again, Fatin leaned closer. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking with everything, it’s high time I get free of my dad. Like financially.”

“Are you asking for, what—adulting advice?”

Shelby nodded, feeling more than a little abashed. “Basically.”

Dot and Fatin exchanged a look, and Fatin inclined her head to Dot, letting the lawyer take point. “Do you know what assets are yours?”

“My house is mine. Name’s on the deed. But the car, my condo here…that’s all my dad’s. On the plus side, I have ten-thousand in the bank, my stipend from Baylor and no debt to speak of.”

“What’s the stipend worth?”

Shaking her head, she realized with some horror she paid so little attention to it that she didn’t know the answer. “Thirty grand? I could get a little more maybe if I started applying for grants.”

“That’s not too bad.” Dot paused, considering her position. “According to Texas law, the house is yours assuming the mortgage is paid off.”

Shelby couldn’t meet her eye. “There was never a mortgage.”

“Even better then. There’s no recourse for gifts. Of course, if your dad wanted to be vindictive, he could make life hell by suing you since he has much deeper pockets. And lawyers don’t usually do defense on contingency.”

“Fuck.” Shelby buried her face in her hands, then peeked out at Dot from between her fingers. “He might fire you, too.”

Crossing her arms, Dot sighed. “Shelby, don’t worry about me.”

“But what if chased you with breach of contract charges or made it hard for you find a new job?”

“Are you really worried about this?”

Shelby looked away, pressing her lips together. “I can’t do this, can I? Even if I just gave everything up, started from nothing.”

“Nice job, Elle Woods,” Fatin broke in. “We just talked her down off the ledge and now she’s up on the fucking roof.” Fatin reached across Dot and seized Shelby’s hand. “Shelby. Calm down. What’s more likely? You dad throws a hissy fit and cuts you out of the will or he does whatever Dorothy was fever dreaming?”

“I was rounding out the scope of possibility!” Dot cried.

Fatin waved at Dot. “She lectures me all afternoon about making too many jokes, and Perry Mason over here has you thinking you need to be a good little slave daughter or he’s going to fairy tale villain it. That would be public. That would be embarrassing. He would _never, ever_ do that.”

Knowing there was a lot of truth in what she was saying, Shelby nodded shakily. He wouldn’t come after her in a way that could potentially tarnish his image as a good Christian and family man. In fact, if anything, his desire for secrecy might actually work in her favor, balancing out the discrepancy in the power equation.

“That’s right,” Shelby said slowly. “He’ll want to keep it quiet.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Dot pondered.

“I’m just saying there are other options.” Fatin smiled at Shelby encouragingly. “He pulls anything, you talk to the press. Tries to squash it with PR firms? You Streisand effect that shit to the moon.”

“What would I do without you?” Shelby whispered.

“Be sad? Lonely? Sexually unsatisfied? Well, still working on that last one.”

Shelby laughed, one quick exhale in recognition of Fatin’s contribution to her mental health.

“If you need help at all, getting your stuff in order, let me know,” Dot offered.

“I guess I better start saving.”

Fatin downed the rest of her drink. “ _That_ I cannot help you with. Dottie?”

+o+o

Shelby was lying in bed when she suddenly thought she hadn’t spoken Darlene or Spencer since she got back, what with meetings and work and Toni. If she was honest with herself, she’d missed feeling close to them, missing feeling any closeness with her family whatsoever. Darlene wasn’t much of a texter but she sent a quick one to Spencer asking about Philly and his upcoming semester. She resolved to make more of an effort to stay in touch with them. She was just starting to go over the events of the day in her mind, wondering if she was doing the right thing, when she got a text from Toni.

_you're overthinking it. i can feel it from here._

Shelby narrowed her eyes at the screen. _I am not overthinking it._

_definitely overthinking it_

_Are you overthinking me overthinking it?_

_you can just ask if i'm thinking about you_

Why did that make her heart jump into her throat? Make her feel weak and a little anxious and not sure how to respond? Not that she needed to respond because Toni answered the untexted question anyway.

_i am. thinking about you._

__For the love of all that was holy, what was she supposed to say to that? She lobbed her phone all the way down to the foot of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Slightly snarky comments she could do, but the flirty, tension laced— She couldn’t cope with it. She lurched out from underneath her covers, scrabbling across the comforter to grab her phone again.

_You are making this so much more difficult than it needs to be._

_so i should stop thinking about you?_

_You are SO unsubtle._

_not one of my talents_

_It’s been, what, twenty hours?_

_fucking lol. touché._

_Goodnight, Minnesota._

_oh my god those comebacks. they hurt so good._

Shelby closed her eyes and smiled to herself, laughing silently at what she imagined would be the look on Toni’s face.

+o+o

Excel had to be the damn bane of her existence. Shelby glared at her spreadsheet again, not understanding why it kept spitting out a negative percentage of all things. She was so concentrated on it she didn’t even hear Toni approach her, noticing her only when she was standing against the end of her bench, only halfway into her labcoat. Shoving her left arm into the sleeve, Toni pivoted on her heel to see what Shelby was working on. The snap of buttons being done up sounded into the bay.

“Just give me a second,” Shelby said, glancing up at her.

“What are you doing?” Toni asked.

“Why do I keep getting this…ah! What is wrong?”

Toni held her hand out, hovering over Shelby’s shoulder for several seconds before awkwardly patting the back of her chair.

“Are you…” Shelby began, “comforting my chair?”

“Chairs have feelings, too,” Toni retorted.

“That’s sweet.”

“Oh, shut up. You know I’m just trying to—you know.” She rolled her eyes. “Where’s Nora?”

“I don’t know. Tissue culture room, I think.” Shelby coughed quietly and looked back at her spreadsheet. “Do you know anything about Excel?”

“Other than it needs to die in a fire? Not much.”

“So I input all the positives and it gives me a negative. I know that can’t be right.”

Toni leaned over her shoulder, already focused on the rows of numbers, when her hand touched Shelby’s where it rested on her mouse. “Sorry. Do you mind if I…?”

Shelby relinquished the mouse to her, watching as she double clicked on a cell and started running down the formula with the cursor. It was all business until Shelby turned slightly, realizing how near they were. All things considered, they didn’t really spend a lot of time close to one another. Not proper time, close enough they might have touched. Shifting forward, Toni squinted at one of the cells on the screen.

“What the fuck?” she muttered.

She planted her left hand on Shelby’s armrest to keep her balance, and in doing so, effectively wrapped her arm around her, leaning into her. There were a dozen other times they huddled together over a gel or over the microscope and never had she felt so apprehensive and shy. Before there had been fear. Never _awareness_ that Toni might feel it, too. Her pulse thudded in her ears and her gaze traveled up Toni’s neck, eventually lingering on the vulnerable underside of her jawline.

“Don’t,” Toni warned softly.

She didn’t pull away, but the word sent a shiver of heat into Shelby’s abdomen. She felt Toni’s hand twist into her shirt, and Shelby lifted her chin as the intimacy of the contact flooded through her. There was a momentary pang of unease, but then all Shelby wanted to do was press an open-mouthed not quite kiss against her throat. Toni moved her head a fraction, eyes cutting down to Shelby’s. The look was quelling, but only just, ruined by the tongue that darted out to wet her lips.

“There was a typo in your formula,” she murmured.

Her first irrational thought was that she was going to put typos in Toni’s formulas, but that sounded unbelievably stupid, even in her head. Toni stood up again, leaving her feeling confused and a little bereft.

“Sorry,” Shelby said finally, sheepish and withdrawn again.

“Hey,” Toni said. “No.”

Before Shelby could do anything else, she bent down and gave her a single quick kiss on the forehead. Seeming to realize belatedly what she’d done, she started to blurt something out then blushed a shade Shelby was surprised she was even capable of and became extremely interested in getting her tubes in order. It was a forehead kiss. It shouldn’t have made her shudder, leave her navigating the jumbled swell of emotion that rose in her. Shelby looked after her, stunned, and took a long steadying breath.


	23. Nora

She first saw Shelby in February. She looked a little lost, still getting her bearings down in the tunnels and glancing down nervously at a sheet of paper in her left hand. Blonde. Average height. Nothing special. Heard the twang of her Texas drawl as she stopped and asked one of the undergrads for directions. Maybe the smile was nice. Pretty. It was only later when she saw Shelby in the lab that she asked Martha. When Martha replied, Toni gave her a sharp look, and it wasn't fair because Goodkind had to be a common enough name, right? But Toni knew; Shelby was one of _those_ Goodkinds. And since Toni liked putting her hand in the heat to feel the flame, she clocked Shelby from the start. Whatever her intentions were at the beginning, whatever she’d meant to do playing with that fire, green eyes found her over and over. By then, it was too late. Oh, by then it was much too late.

+o+o

Nora wasn’t a student anymore. Not relegated to the short white coat, but her pockets certainly looked the role, bulging with her phone, notes, a small reference book. It weighed her down at the front and she legitimately worried about the future of her spine health as she followed the senior fellow up the hall. Outside the allotted room, Christmas lights were all hung in the office. He paused, trading some light greeting with one of the RNs, but she stayed focused on the case at hand. Non-penetrating trauma with a right scalp laceration. Mild head injury. Presented three weeks prior with a Glasgow Coma Score of 13. Patient somewhat uncooperative to commands and responses possibly complicated by distraction of significant physical trauma elsewhere. CTs indicative of frontal lobe contrecoup contusion. Switch to MRI to monitor for subsequent bloom. Most recent CT looked clean enough, no effacement of cisterns and ventricles. Patient not talking much, but without even seeing her Nora frankly thought aphasia unlikely. Apparently, the fellow thought so as well, because he said:

“She’s young, recovering nicely,” he said. “Sorry, I should have looked. What meds is she on?”

The nurse logged into her chart and looked through, turning the monitor to him so he could read it. Dilaudid while she was hospitalized, a short course of oxy following her release. Nora didn’t see anything else that might affect her speech pattern.

“Has she been vocalizing at all or showing signs of difficulty you?” Nora asked the nurse.

“The ortho attending at Abbott says she remembers all her swear words,” the nurse replied. “She shouted at everyone on rounds until they left.”

“She really shouldn’t be exerting—”

“I said that, but you know how people are.”

“Did they have to restrain her?”

“It’s not like she could get out of the bed. Settled right down afterward.”

“Well, that’s good. I think.”

“Do you want to run this one, Nora?” the fellow asked her.

Eyes widening slightly, Nora nodded, agreeing to go in without him. Her first glimpse of Toni Shalifoe was of her braced and bandaged up to the thigh, leaning against the desk with her foot balanced on a cushion. Her crutches were up against the wall, over her backpack. No one else was in the exam room; she was alone. Nora couldn’t see the shaven line of stitches on the right side of her head, but knew objectively they were there like the world’s most unwanted undercut. The eyes were vacant, staring down at the floor, not acknowledging her presence at all.

“Hi, Toni,” she announced. “I’m Doctor Reid, a neurologist. I’m here to talk to you about the results of your CT the other day.”

Shutting the door, Nora sat down across from her. No response from the girl at all, aside from a muscle that worked in her throat as she swallowed. She could have just blurted the results out into the room and gone on her merry way, but Nora looked at her and felt a pang of pity. Eighteen. Skinny and scared, and as she looked longer, she saw the white knuckled death grip Toni had on her own jacket, the guarded tenseness of her body.

“Does the surgeon know you’re in pain?” Nora asked her.

That got her the barest sardonic smile, followed by a grimace, and Toni turned her face away.

“We can adjust your—”

Toni sat up, pushing herself more upright on one elbow and fixed Nora with a dark scrutinizing glare. Once she was satisfied that Nora would not mention anything about her pain or her medication further, she slouched back down again, breathing fast and shallow with the effort.

“I did come in to talk to you about the CT,” Nora said. “The good news is the swelling has gone down. You may experience some headaches or lingering difficulty concentrating, but we expect that to be resolved in three to six months.”

The hand fisted in the jacket angled and gave her an extremely unenthusiastic thumbs up. Nora glanced around, trying to set eyes on something, anything that would spur a verbal exchange with Toni. The crutches were simple, hospital issue, gray plastic and aluminum. But there was a tag on the backpack, maroon plastic with gold lettering over a basketball. _Toni Shalifoe #3_. Nora suddenly wished she’d spent more time familiarizing herself with the nature of the breaks, Toni’s surgery schedule, her prognosis. She’d put far too much time and energy into the TBI. No wonder she wasn’t talking to any of them except for to scream.

“Has…the team sent anyone to talk to you?” Nora asked diplomatically.

A laugh, a bitter anguished laugh. “Are we done here?”

There. A few words. Angry words, but words. “Toni, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I want you to know how many resources—”

“Are we done here?” She was trying to stand up, clattering with the crutches.

“Is there anyone out in the waiting room I can get for you? Your parents maybe?”

“No.”

Nora didn’t try to help her. It would have added insult to considerable injury. In lieu, she thought about how to get Toni Shalifoe in front of Rachel when it came time to start rehabilitation. If there was anyone who would understand…the memory of the sick crack of Rachel’s head impacting the diving platform. She couldn’t do it, but maybe she could persuade Hennings to do it in her stead.


	24. Chapter 24

That night Fatin and Dot took Shelby to dinner, which Nora decided to gate crash, though it wasn't a proper gate crashing because Dot invited her. Dot and Fatin had become quite friendly with Nora during their first visit which pleased Shelby in a selfish way because if they were all friends then it would make telling Nora about Toni later that much easier. Fatin toyed with her emotions for about ten minutes by threatening to invite Toni, too, but Toni Shalifoe was forbidden from entering a five-hundred-foot radius of Fatin until March and Shelby said so in no uncertain terms. The four of them sat at a table at the back of the restaurant, overlooking the moonlit river, Fatin and Dot sitting rather closer to their shared corner than necessary because Shelby knew they were texting each other under the tablecloth.

“Kurt was pretty disgusting the other morning,” said Nora, turning the tide of the conversation away from the unearthing of whole new treasure troves of Daniel photos.

“Looks like Toni thought so,” commented Fatin.

“I was actually a little worried that things had gone weird between you and Toni again the other morning.”

“I wasn’t.”

Shelby looked at her, willing her to stop. “That’s Toni. Brave to a fault.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“What are you?” Dot hissed. “Her hype man? Could you tone it down Flavor Flav?”

“Fine.” Fatin glanced in Nora’s direction. “Probably for the best anyway.”

If Nora was in any way concerned by their whispering, she gave no sign, happily asking Shelby, “Hey, Toni can separate blood, right?”

"Yeah," Shelby said, feeling sort of irrationally possessive about her. "Do you want to borrow her?"

"I'm not going to steal her from you. She just got approved for a UROP so I was curious what her skill set was."

Shelby frowned. "What's a yerop?"

"Undergraduate Research Opportunities Program. I thought you helped her with her application."

"I didn’t help her with anything. What does that even mean?"

Nora shrugged. "It's some kind of research program for the undergrads. It pays them to work on some project they come up with. She asked me to sponsor her in December."

"Wait, what? Why didn't I know about this?" Shelby couldn't help but feel hurt, even when she objectively distanced herself from it a bit and recognized that things hadn’t exactly been the best between them through the whole month of December.

"Not as though you've been _talking_ to her much lately," Fatin said delicately.

"We've been busy," Shelby said in a carefully controlled voice, trying to quash the banter. "I just don't know why she didn't tell me."

“It will be good for her to work on her own project,” Dot said.

Nora nodded in agreement. “It’ll look good anyway. I wonder why she asked me to sponsor her instead of you, Shelby."

"Maybe she's more interested in the autoimmunity project," Shelby hedged.

“I guess I should think about what she needs training in. Maybe some clinical evaluation?”

“Help with assay development?” Dot suggested.

"Probably not, Toni’s already giving it to Shelby.”

Fatin flat out choked on her wine, eyes watering as she spluttered and attempted to hide her laughing behind her napkin in a coughing fit. Springing into doctorly action, Nora half started from her chair, prepared to perform the Heimlich maneuver, but settled for patting Fatin helpfully on the back while she recovered. Shelby knew she couldn't sit there and glare at Fatin without immediately tipping off Nora, who no doubt knew there was something afoot anyway because she was too clever for her own good. Maybe she and Toni hadn't been nearly as subtle as she thought; either Nora knew there was something going on or she was doing an exceptionally poor job of choosing her words. Shelby knew they needed to discuss it soon, but in the moment, her only recourse was to try to change the subject.

"So how long do you think you'll need to stay, guys?"

"Another few days at most," Dot replied. "The rest we can do by email until the final evaluation in March. That reminds me, are you coming to Oxford?"

"Oxford? Why would I be coming to Oxford?"

"The fiftieth anniversary EBV symposium. I figured you'd want to be there."

"I forgot all about that."

"Do you think Daniel will pay for us to go, Shelby?" Nora said, with a great deal of zeal for the idea. “I would love that.”

"I'll probably go even if he doesn't."

"Where is it in Oxford?"

"Keble College, isn't it? I haven’t been to Oxford in a long time."

Nora sat back, evidently lost in daydreams of visiting England. They left not long after, and Shelby really should have been suspicious that Nora hadn't pushed or said anything about Fatin's obvious mockery of her situation with Toni. She hugged her friends goodbye, scowling at Fatin and Dot over Nora’s shoulder. She should have been suspicious because as Shelby turned up the street, Nora abruptly muttered “Oh no” to the epidemiologist and the puzzled lawyer.

+o+o

Shelby went back to her apartment confused. She was still stuck on the fact Toni had gotten that research funding without her knowledge, and with the specific objective that she start working for Nora instead. Toni had made it plain she intended to stay with Shelby to finish the GTW testing and assay development, but then what? Maybe she really did prefer the autoimmunity project and Shelby _had_ said Toni needed to find her own project if they were going to try anything; but the application deadlines were weeks ago, and she would have needed to approach Nora about being her sponsor since Daniel would no doubt be acting as her faculty mentor.

How long had Toni been thinking and planning? Is it what she'd wanted as far back as Shelby’s birthday? Shelby thought about the night they'd slept on the floor by her fire. If Toni had feelings for her even then… There was a time she might have been repulsed by the image it conjured, but in the present it made her want to press Toni into her rug, have her legs locked around her own hips, and kiss her deep and hard and slow. No, she could not have vivid and filthy fantasies about Toni, it wouldn’t help her resist, wouldn’t help them go through the motions of not touching, not kissing, not slaking the simmering, burning thirst she felt every time Toni looked at her. An ache that made her want to slip her fingers down and finish the thing she’d been trying so hard not to do since that first dream in Dallas. Think of Toni when she came. Always with a whimper of disappointment because each one somehow left her hungrier than the last, shivering with need.

On Saturday, Shelby went to lab, like she usually did when she had thoughts too big for her head. Shelby almost texted Toni when she got in, a short message of just six words: _We need to be more careful_. But how much more fucking careful could they possibly be short of not seeing one another ever? Impossible as she and Toni still needed to work together. She ended up sending an entirely different text, wanting to hear from her.

_How's your Saturday?_

A few minutes later Nora arrived as well, looking distinctly put out about being in lab on a Saturday. She rummaged around in her desk drawer, producing her lab notebook.

"Cells to feed?" Shelby asked.

"Yeah," Nora complained. "For being so small they're hungry little bastards."

Toni's reply set off Shelby's phone. _marty just told me my spirit animal is the sloth_

Blinking, Shelby had to read that one again.

"Why a sloth?" Shelby muttered.

"Toni?" said Nora absently as she dug through a stack of papers for her cell media recipe.

Shelby looked back over her shoulder at the doctor, her mention of Toni bringing back Dot and Fatin’s disgraceful showing, all done at her peril. She waited, as Nora looked down the list of materials.

“I…I think I need to tell you something,” Shelby said.

Nora swore as she accidentally knocked a tube rack off her bench with her elbow. “About what?”

"About Toni."

Stopping mid-movement, Nora looked at her sharply. Very slowly, Nora bent down and retrieved the rack, strumming her fingers over the metal lattice until it twanged.

"Don't be mad!" Nora said anxiously.

Shelby gaped at her, not certain why she was supposed to be mad and not Nora. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to figure it out. Not before you told me anyway.”

That truly baffled her, and Shelby shook her head.

“It just started making a lot of sense.”

“What made sense? _This_ is making no sense.”

“You being ‘straight’.” Nora completed the sentence by actually making air quotes. “And before you go getting upset at Dot or Fatin, I figured that out for myself.”

Stumbling over her words, Shelby began to object furiously, a lifetime of kneejerk reactions pouring into her immediate response. “That’s not—I didn’t—"

Nora started to tick things off on her fingers. “The way you reacted at the Chinese place. Toni liking you. How tense and uncomfortable everything was when you came back from Texas. This.”

Shelby shook her head again, unable to compress ten years of back-story into thirty seconds or less so she didn't try to explain at all.

"You're mad," Nora said quietly.

“Still don’t understand why I would be mad at you. If I’m mad at anyone, it’s my damn self.”

Reaching out, Nora put her hand on Shelby’s shoulder. “You’re in an awful situation.”

“We kissed once,” Shelby rushed out. “We haven’t—haven’t done…anything else.”

“I guessed that myself.”

“How?”

“You stare at each other. A lot.” Crossing her arms, Nora leaned against the bench. “You know this is an ethics violation and now I’m in a compromised position knowing.”

“This is all my fault. Toni’s going to withdraw in March when the testing is done. We agreed nothing would happen until then.”

“That sounds like a disaster.”

“I understand you need to report it, but Toni didn’t do anything.” Shelby nodded, swallowing, accepting whatever Nora was going to say next.

“I feel like this is the part where I give you a speech about how life is cruel and messy and you should hold onto things that make you happy, but you know that already.”

Mouth falling open in disbelief, Shelby sat down in her chair, feeling deflated after winding herself so tightly in preparing to fight. “That’s it?”

“Pretty much.”

“You’re not…going to say anything else?”

"It’s Saturday. I’m in lab and I hate it.” Nora sighed again. "You two have no willpower, so let's hope everyone else has gaydar even worse than mine."

+o+o

Alan Dawes (bcm.edu)  
To: Shelby Goodkind (umn.edu)  
RE: EBV 50th

Excellent news. Looking forward very much to seeing you at Oxford! Shame I'm organising this year, it means I'll have less time to spend with you at the pub.

Alan

+o+o

Toni went with Shelby on Monday to collect the mail directed to the lab, but it necessitated venturing to the central departmental mail room in another building. There were two ways to go. One was through the tunnel system, which Shelby preferred as it was faster. The other crossed the enclosed skyway on the fifth floor, and offered a view of the landscaped pedestrian terrace near the hospital. Whenever Toni accompanied her, that was the way they went and usually it involved some type of interval in the skyway. At first, Shelby thought Toni took the route for the glimpse of the outside world, but then she slowly came to suspect it was actually because the skyway was infrequently used, and it provided them a less disturbed moment to just be together. The sky was clear and blue that afternoon, the sun blinding off the windshields of the cars circling the drop off at the university clinic. Toni leaned against the rail, one foot resting on the floor level radiator that kept the skyway from becoming an icebox in winter.

“Why is your spirit animal the sloth?” Shelby asked.

Half smiling, Toni glanced at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to do laundry.”

“No one _wants_ to do laundry.”

“That’s what I said to Marty, but she’s like on this fucking schedule where she has to do it every Saturday morning. Whatever, I was feeling lazy I guess.”

Bouncing anxiously, Shelby looked at her. “Nora knows about us. Or the not us. Or God knows what we’re doing.”

Toni nodded, not looking in the least surprised. “How did that happen?”

“She was telling me about your UROP and—” She stopped. “Why didn’t _you_ tell me about your UROP?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d get it.”

Frowning, Shelby tried not to let the sting of thing show. “I could have helped.”

Toni rested her forehead against the window for a moment, like the cold glass would help her decide what to say, then she turned back to Shelby. “I didn’t need help.”

“I understand if you’d rather work with Nora.”

“It’s just a job.” Toni shrugged to emphasize the flippancy of the statement. “This works out in our favor doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me.”

Toni looked up at her, eyebrows working together in confusion. “When was I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“That time in Target when you brought me a muffin and started asking invasive questions about my ex-girlfriend?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “I was not asking invasive questions.”

“We were barely speaking, Shelby.”

“You know it wasn’t because of you.”

“Yes, it was. You were ready to like fucking cancel me and I wasn’t sure if things would ever be okay again. It just seemed like working for Nora was going to be a lot less complicated than—” She exhaled hard. “Forget it.”

“Less complicated than what? Dealing with the rich girl in the closet?”

“Forget it.”

Toni filled the awkwardness of the silence with a burst of movement, pushing away from the window. She rounded the corner to elevator without Shelby. Alone with the mail still tucked under her left arm, Shelby squeezed her eyes shut, smelling the slick inked pages of catalogs and adhesive. When was she going to stop messing things up?

“Toni, wait,” she called, voice echoing off the unadorned walls.

Jogging in Toni’s wake to catch up, she found Toni in the middle of the corridor, waiting but with her back still turned. Shelby took in the tightness of her posture, the rigid stiffness of the muscle in her shoulders and knew without asking that December had been its own kind of hell for Toni, too. She wanted to wrap her arms around those tense shoulders, hold her until Toni relaxed into her, forgave her, but knew that she couldn’t. She watched at a distance, with a new, more potent kind of shame.

“What are we going to do about Nora?” Toni asked.

“I don’t think we need to do anything,” Shelby replied. “She was surprisingly sympathetic.”

“That checks out.”

“We could stay apart a while.”

“You gotta stop with this.” Toni paused, then stepped closer to her and said more forcefully, “Yeah, we are epically stupid, but you can fuck right off with that noise.”

Toni jerked her head toward the elevator bank and Shelby went with her, running one knuckle over the back of Toni's hand.

“No touching,” Toni remonstrated, and roughly punched the call button with her thumb.

+o+o

On the day that Fatin and Dot went back to Dallas, Shelby somehow ended up ridiculously early at the hotel to fetch the pair of them, and wandered into the nearby Starbucks for a coffee while she waited. Normally she would have avoided it, but lately she’d spent a lot of time contemplating the meaning of life there with Fatin. It stirred a memory in the back of her mind of one of the rare occasions she went during the first year of her doctorate. At the time, she hadn't dwelt on it; it hadn’t seemed important. But as she sat in the lobby of the hotel by the fire she thought about the two girls she'd seen. They were probably college aged with hiking backpacks. Why they were in Houston she couldn't guess aside from perhaps a visit to NASA. One had her feet up on a chair, while her companion curled into a little ball, nestled into her side sleeping. The girl who was awake had laid aside her book and smiled at Shelby before kissing the other girl's hair.

Shelby wondered why then of all times she recalled seeing them. They were just two girls in a coffee shop, and yet the image of them together stuck with her for three years. Then she realized she'd thought of them because the girl looked like Toni, if Toni had blue eyes and was the type to fall really sappily in love, which Shelby didn’t think she was. It was such a clear memory. Espresso, pretension and light-colored wood. Those two girls. Were they still together? Suddenly and irrationally, Shelby hoped so. She hoped they still felt that obvious swell of love she'd seen in that stranger's face.

Shelby was so deep in her recollection she almost didn't see Dot and Fatin coming for her. Glancing up quickly, she got to her feet, watching as they approached.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she said as they neared. “I should probably get my own car and apartment.”

“Car might be a good idea anyway with Minnesota weather,” Dot reasoned.

“I’d ride that apartment into the ground though,” countered Fatin. “Have you _seen_ college apartments lately? Anything in your price range is going to suck.”

“Maybe I can angle that. Complain about the snow, get my name on the title.”

“Are you actively trying to swindle your dad?”

Shelby sighed. “Might as well.”

Grinning, Fatin’s eyes lit up. “Who are you and what have you done with Shelby Goodkind?”

“What do you reckon I should get? Something used?”

“The real question is: Are you going to go full Subaru?”

Shelby scowled. “Full Subaru?”

Dot burst out laughing. “Toni seriously needs to give you some lesbian lessons.”

“I’m surprised Dot and her cargo shorts didn’t do that in college,” Fatin said.

“I just like storage, okay?”

“They still scream gaaay.”

When they arrived at the airport, Shelby said grateful goodbyes to her two friends with Dot offering again to help arrange any legal paperwork she needed in Dallas.

“I’ll see you in March, then?” Shelby asked.

They both waved and with that, Shelby was on her own.

+o+o

The week classes were due to restart, the undergraduates and professional students percolated back into Shelby’s awareness as they returned from their winter holidays. It was also that week, with Dot and Fatin gone, that Shelby elected to start running time courses for the neutralizing antibody assay, which meant she had to stay in lab for nearly three solid days while she took a measurement every four hours. On the second day, she nodded off at her desk and was prodded awake by Nora around 5pm.

“How many hours do you have left?” Nora asked.

Shelby looked at the timer counting down on her watch. “Forty-eight.”

“Does it really matter after the first day? You should just do one at forty-eight and one at seventy-two and go home.”

“This thing has to be validated for the clinical trial.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re working on it and not me. I’d have gone home by now.” She pointed at Toni where she sat on a stool at Shelby’s bench instead of her own. “You got this, skipper?”

For a split second, Toni continued looking down at her textbook, then turned to Nora with a bewildered expression at the form of address. “Aye, aye, matey?”

“Steer her steady.”

Laughing, Toni saluted solemnly and Nora left the lab. For a while, they kept separate from one another after all the other students and technicians left, but eventually Toni went and sat beside Shelby, allowing it when Shelby yawned massively and put her head on Toni's shoulder. Toni glanced down at her, smirk clearly mocking her “no touching” rule again, but Shelby was so tired she didn't care and curled up in her chair, hugging onto Toni's arm as she began to fall asleep. Unexpectedly, Toni let her stay for a few minutes before rousing her.

“Go home, Shelby,” Toni said.

“I have to be back in three hours,” Shelby replied muzzily.

“Then come back to my room.”

Shelby stiffened, suddenly becoming more alert as she gave Toni an uncertain look.

“We’ll have a chaperone,” Toni said, rolling her eyes. “Marty is back. I'll sleep with her and you can have my bed.”

“She won't mind?”

Toni shook her head, slipping away from Shelby before holding out her hand. Shelby was so tired she simply took the offered appendage like a small child, allowing Toni to help her up and fetch her coat. It was bitterly cold through the journey to 17th Avenue, and about half way there as they trekked alongside the natatorium Toni stuck out her elbow, hand still in her pocket. For a beat nothing happened, then Toni did it again. Shelby finally realized what she was doing and slipped her hand into the crook of Toni's arm. They walked close together, Toni partially shielding her from the wind the rest of the way. By the time they mounted the steps to the dorm, Shelby was yawning again.

Toni disengaged briefly to fish her ID card from her pocket, quickly touching it against the scanner on the outer door and ushering Shelby into the entrance area with a soft push in the small of her back. Shelby had never actually been _inside_ 17th Avenue before, merely gazing in through the greenish glass of the windows at the dining hall on the lowest floor. Toni led the way to the right and up the stairwell, rounding three floors worth of stairs before alighting in a blindingly bright corridor of doors. Toni's room was on the corner, and she tested the silver door handle with a little jiggle, looking mildly amazed to find it unlocked. With a lift of her eyebrows, she went in, letting Shelby pass her before bending down to untie her boots which involved a series of unbucklings and fiddling with little cord locks. The very small room managed to stuff a bunk bed and two persons worth of furniture into it. Shelby didn't at first see her but Martha sat awake on the top bunk, a book in her lap as she leaned over the rail and waved enthusiastically.

"Hi, Shelby!" Martha said. "What are you doing here?"

"Time course," Shelby replied. "I don't mean to burst in uninvited.”

"Mi casa es su casa."

"Thanks. How was your holiday?”

“Good! Glad to be back though. My sisters and I can only take so much of each other.”

There was a sort of meaningful look that passed between Toni and Martha, and Toni gave her a Muppet shrug that was all shoulders, but nothing else on the topic of Shelby was said. Most of the wall decorations clearly belonged to Martha, being typically vibrant and colorful. Toni's only obvious contribution to the space was a string of lights that were strung along the lower bunk. As Toni struggled out of her second boot, a tiny slip of paper fell out onto the carpet. It was another photo of Daniel.

“How?” Shelby asked with a pained look.

Toni laughed, flicking the photo into the hallway and firmly shutting the door. It was the resident assistant's problem. She approached the bed and reached up for Martha's book like it was something she was accustomed to doing, a little ritual that she and Martha went through daily.

"Will you be here in the morning?" Martha said to Shelby.

"No, I've got to go back to lab," Shelby said.

"Well, sleep tight!"

Meanwhile, Toni had turned the toggle to the light string and extinguished the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in a soft glow.

“Do you want clothes?” Toni asked.

Shelby shook her head. “Not for three hours.”

“I’m going to change.”

“I won’t look.”

She paused, grinning at Shelby’s shy glance. “Or look. Whatever.”

Toni turned her back and shimmied out of her jeans. Feeling rather self-conscious, Shelby sat down on the edge of Toni's mattress nervously trying not to stare as Toni stripped off her shirt as well with the practiced ease of a seasoned athlete. Somehow, she'd always imagined Toni as skinny and angular beneath her clothes, but the glimpse she saw of Toni's flesh revealed she was pleasantly fluid and smooth; a bit bony at the ribs, quickly receding into lean hips. She redressed quickly, giving Shelby a half-smile and climbed up the ladder to the top bunk, garnering a murmured protest from the already mostly asleep Martha as she joined her best friend on the tiny bed.

Shelby reluctantly slipped beneath Toni's comforter, still uncertain if taking Toni up had been a good idea. As it turned out, it was an awful idea because the sheets smelled powerfully like her and Shelby had to resist the urge to bury her face in the pillow. It was the worst kind of high school fantasy, but she had brief mental image of cuddling against Toni, wrapping her arm around her waist, the ghosted memory of Toni kissing her forehead. She was lying in Toni’s bed, the place where she slept every night. Sometimes maybe touched herself thinking about—ugh, God no. She definitely could not think of that. For several long minutes, Shelby lay there straining her ears for the sound of her breathing, half hoping she would come back down. It was as close as she could safely be, and she felt soothed by Toni's proximity as the exhaustion slowly overtook her.

+o+o

A soft hand was brushing her hair back from her forehead. Shelby's eyes flickered open to find Toni crouched beside the bed, a tired smirk on her face in the low light. Shelby actually cussed in a hoarse whisper transforming the smirk into a real smile. Tugging at the covers, Shelby rolled over in protest until she felt Toni trying to stir her again. Grudgingly, she finally sat up, bent low to keep from whacking her head on the top bunk, only to yawn and nuzzle her face into Toni's neck. Her hands slid up Toni's back as she cuddled closer, breathing in Toni's scent, her warmth. She didn't even notice Toni was kneeling between her legs until she felt the push of breasts against her own.

Toni's fingers tightened against her shoulder blades, and she pressed into Shelby just _there_. For several agonizing moments they held perfectly still, her heart hammering against Toni’s rib cage. Then Shelby grazed her nose over soft skin, kissed the line of muscle under her lips, and then there was nothing but the sensation of the answering languid roll of Toni’s hips. Involuntary. So slow, but so _good_ and she felt the fevered press of Toni’s mouth against the side of her neck, her muffled moan shivering out in a vibration that made her sink her teeth gently into Toni’s shoulder to silence it. What were they doing? Her eyes snapped open and she finally tore away with a frustrated hiss. Suddenly, Shelby was painfully awake, looking at Toni with a startled, guilty expression.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I—"

Shaking her head, Toni bit her own lip hard enough it almost drew blood.

“I should go.”

Shelby got to her feet shakily, making for the door. For Christ’s sake, Martha was asleep above them less than five feet away. What the hell was wrong with her? She was jeopardizing everything. So, so stupid. March was too far away and she was only centimeters of fuse away from having it explode. It took her a few seconds to find her shoes, but then she staggered into the bright light beyond the door, burning with unfulfilled lust and regret. Surprisingly, Toni went with her into the hall and shut the door so it made no sound.

“Where are you going?” Shelby asked.

Toni tipped her head back. “To take the coldest shower of my entire fucking life.”

"You, uh—oh." Shelby cleared her throat quietly. "That much?"

Toni nodded, the look on her face turning more feral the longer Shelby held her gaze. Shelby prevaricated, staring at her, wanting her.

“Go,” Toni commanded. “If we start again—”

Shelby knew exactly what she meant and she turned before Toni could even finish the sentence, escaping from the dorm at a dead sprint.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is early, but thought you'd appreciate the update. I wanted to generally say thank you for reading and sticking with the narrative. Thanks also for your comments and kudos, you have all been exceptionally kind and lovely. The interactions I've had with you have warmed the cockles of my cold dead heart.

The memory of Shelby's little "lapse" with Toni dogged her all the following morning. She vacillated between ashamed and defiant. The rational, awake part of her brain cringed at the impropriety, but the primitive part, drunk on sleep deprivation, kept thinking back to the way Toni pressed against her. Years’ worth of half-hearted, guilty daydreams didn’t equal the reality. Toni, only a few thin layers of cotton fabric separating their skin. And _breasts_. Nothing could have prepared her for that and in the midst of her exhausted haze she wondered how she managed to survive to adulthood without ever letting herself realize how much she loved breasts. Specifically, Toni’s breasts. She wasn’t sure if she needed an orgasm or an uninterrupted night of sleep more. Maybe both, preferably in that order.

Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she gathered up her laptop and set off toward the clinic for lab meeting. She was just turning up the narrower connecting tunnel when she had to stop and reassess whether or not she was even conscious because there was a man ahead walking with Daniel that looked a hell of a lot like…was that Dave? She shook her head, blinking hard and looking again. No, certainly not. That was ridiculous. Her father was not in Minneapolis, not walking with her boss toward the clinic. Ducking into a doorway, she flattened out there and immediately texted Dot.

_Is my dad in the office?_

She stared at the screen, silently wishing Dot would act faster. Not fast enough. Retreating far enough away from the clinic, she hid in an alcove while she ran though who would know her father’s schedule. Helen, obviously. Her mother. Neither of them was an option, however, because Dave would know immediately she was asking about him. Her grandmother would want to talk. Impatient, Shelby gave up on texting and called Dot. It rang several times before going to voicemail. _Fuck_. No, no. She had to stay composed. She couldn’t let him intimidate her, dictate to her. The plans she’d set in motion had hardly matured out of their infancy, though, and she had to truckle to him just a little longer until they came to fruition. Just a little bit longer. Suddenly, she wanted to talk to Spencer. Unlikely Spencer would get apprised of Dave’s travel itinerary while he was in Philadelphia, but he would understand her implicitly. She wouldn’t have to do a lot of explaining; he would just know. She called him, hoping he would pick up quickly, and he did, on the second ring.

“Hey, Shelby,” Spencer said cheerfully. “How are things in lab?”

“Dad’s here,” she said without preamble.

“In Minneapolis? Or are you back in Dallas?”

“Like here. In Minneapolis. This morning with no warning at all.”

A long silence ensued. “But why?”

“I have no idea.”

“That’s extra, even for him.”

Shelby nodded manically, forgetting momentarily that he couldn’t see her. “What do I do, Spence?”

“Well, if you haven’t been going to church, I’d look one up right now.”

“Oh my God, thank you.” She shoved her phone between her ear and her shoulder, hastily opening her laptop to make the note. “Anything else?”

“Just be your usual charming self.”

Great, meaning she needed to be anything but her actual self. Thinking quickly, Shelby knew she needed to allay his concern with an excuse so she blamed the vaccine.

“Micromanagement at its finest,” she said. “Dot and Fatin _just_ went back to Dallas.”

“That’s not cool, dropping in on you like this.”

“Thanks, Spence. I better go.”

“Good luck. Call me if you need anything else.”

As she hung up, she glanced at her reflection in her phone. Well, that was a dire picture, pale and ragged, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d been cursing Toni’s spring semester schedule because it made her miss lab meeting, but apparently the conflict was fated, protecting both of them from Dave. Summoning up the very last reserves of her energy, she put on the mask one more time. The smiling, happy, normal mask she wore for his benefit. She’d never had to wear it in Minneapolis, not once, and the restriction of it chafed; she hated how it felt, hated that it made her feel less connected to herself.

She tried to rally, to remember the love and loyalty her friends had shown her. She remembered Fatin’s words of encouragement. Then it sank, upended, beneath the crush of a strange wave of inadequacy. Why couldn’t she just shake it? That feeling of never being good enough? She lingered, mired in fear until she thought of Toni standing up for her. How her heart swelled when she reached out afterward to touch her hand. The warmth it left in her chest refused to be denied, and for the first time she didn’t force herself to crush it with self-loathing. She compartmentalized it, set it aside to live alongside the rest of her in its requisite box.

She did look up a church though. First Baptist was on Hennepin was close to her apartment and would play the part well enough. She frantically tried to figure out who the preacher was, reading a bunch of useless information about the church mission and how the original steeple blew down in a windstorm in 1967 before landing on the pastor’s name. Reverend Jacob Parker. Wonderful, fine. She invented a backstory she thought would match his ministry photo. Reverend Parker was young but not too progressive. Married. Two kids. Originally from Georgia but moved to Minnesota after seminary. Insufficiently prepared, but having done what she could with the time she had, Shelby tucked her laptop under her arm again and started back up the tunnel toward the clinic. It was luck, pure luck, she had been able to prepare whatsoever.

The navy blue of Dave’s suit jacket stood out against the background of undergraduates in casual clothing and Daniel’s shapeless multicolored sweater. Nora by chance even had her white coat on, _Nora Reid, MD_ _Neurology_ embroidered on the right and _M Health University of Minnesota_ on the left. She did a double take and frowned at Nora, confused about her coat and actually began to wonder if everyone else knew about Dave before she did. Reigning herself in, she blinked rapidly until the break neck pace of her paranoia eased. Nora had rounds that morning. Of course, she was wearing her white coat. Nora caught her eye and glanced surreptitiously at Dave, somehow conveying in that bare split second that she _knew_. Unable to say anything to her, Shelby went about making a great show of looking surprised to see him, the best of her performative pageant instincts kicking in.

“Daddy?” she said, cocking her head. “What are you doing here?”

Looking up from his conversation with Daniel, Dave rose and smiled. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

She hugged him, hiding her anxious caution, and he hugged her, no doubt hiding the insidious intent of the visit. She smiled up at him, hoping her face was as blank and unreadable as his.

“What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“Had a long layover on my way to Seattle,” said Dave. “It was a last-minute change, didn’t have much warning myself.”

It wasn’t a last-minute change, nor was it a long layover. The man had his own damn jet and in the subtext of their very normal looking father-daughter relationship he was telling her in so many words that he came to check up on her. See with his own eyes what she was doing. She smiled more, brighter.

“Well, how long are you around for?” Shelby asked.

He squeezed her arm gently. “Just until late this afternoon. Maybe you could show me around after this little meeting of yours and we could have lunch?”

“I’m doing a time course but—” She feigned making an apologetic movement of her head toward the table. “Can we talk after the meeting here? I don’t want to hold people up.”

He nodded and they parted, Shelby rounding the table. She almost took a seat as close to Nora as she could manage, but knew that she couldn’t. Obliged, she sat next to Dave and introduced Martha, Leah, and Nora to him. With the preliminaries complete, Daniel began to move through the agenda, while Shelby solicitously whispered tidbits and clarifications to her father. Shelby gave her update, laying on the accent a little thicker, compelling an exuberance into her voice she didn’t feel about the sixty-hour weeks and days without sleep. Martha and Leah disbanded as soon as the meeting was over, but Nora sat with her laptop open, diligently typing something into it while Shelby remained on the periphery of Daniel’s discussion with Dave about preparations for the clinical trial.

“As you know, Shelby here has been hard at work on the efficacy assays,” Daniel said. “Has there been any more progress on manufacturing for the clinical grade material?”

Dave folded his hands. “I’m not clear on the particulars. That’s Quinn’s purview, but as I understand it, we have a GMP facility with bioreactors big enough for the phase one batch queued up. Big question will be if the manufacturer for the adjuvant can deliver on time.” So much information for someone not clear on the particulars. “Anyway, let’s not talk shop. I want to hear more about what a proud papa I should be.”

“I’ve never known a grad student who could have done what Shelby’s done in just a few short months. She’s been phenomenal.”

Shelby smiled demurely, saying, “You’re just flattering me.”

“And how about you, Doctor Reid?” Dave asked. “Tell me more about yourself.”

Nora halted in the middle of her furious typing, like she’d been documenting their chat for a deposition, and looked rather startled as she gazed at the three of them over her screen.

“Me?” she spluttered.

“Yeah, that’s right. Shelby’s always so shy telling me about her friends, and I see her with that phone of hers. Always texting people.”

There was something about that Shelby did not like. He was barking up absolutely the wrong tree with Nora, and she was happy to let him go chasing his proverbial tail asking her questions, but there was something about that she did not like at all. Nora continued doing an excellent job of being herself, taking him too literally and generally giving wonderfully useless responses to his probing sandwiched in amongst the compliments. Then it hit her in the face like he’d slapped her.

He could see her text messages. Maybe not the physical content of them but he could see how often she texted certain numbers and at what times. He knew she spent Christmas morning texting. He knew she exchanged hundreds of messages over the past few weeks with a number with a 218 area code, which encompassed all of northern Minnesota. In the morning. At night. Whenever Toni crept into her thoughts. How could she be so fucking stupid? It should have been the first thing she did as soon as she stopped living at home, but her senior year of high school was so obsessed with camouflaging herself to the point of invisibility she didn’t do it. She stayed with Andrew. She applied to UTD. She toed every single soul crushing line. And there she was at twenty-six, no less broken and pathetic than she had been at eighteen.

“…no, I’m from New York originally,” Nora said, and that snapped her back to the present.

He was playing process of elimination. Would he ask Martha and Leah, too? Probably get stuck on Martha if she said she was from Leech Lake. He was the CEO of a multinational pharmaceutical company. Didn’t he had bigger fish to fry than trying to ferret out her personal business in Minnesota? She sat quietly, waiting for a moment when she could break flow and say something nice about Nora.

“Nora’s the one with that autoimmunity project,” Shelby said at an opportune moment. “I helped her get that funding last month, remember?”

“That’s right,” Dave said, smiling and nodding as though he did remember, but Shelby was almost certain he didn’t. “I’d love to see your lab.”

Nora sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, shoving her laptop hallway across the table in her haste to get moving. Then she sighed as she realized she couldn’t leave without it. A long awkward pause ensued where she bent over and dragged her computer closer to her across the laminate surface. The rubber feet gripped and let out a drawn-out squeaking noise into the silence, that perfectly encompassed how disturbing the entire scenario was in a single horrid scrape, Shelby started laughing. It was a wholly inappropriate response to the situation, but she had racked up a grand total of six hours of sleep over two nights and she giggled helplessly while Nora scowled at her and snapped the clamshell shut.

“Sorry,” Shelby said, waving her hand. “I’m in the middle of a time course. Think the lack of sleep is getting to me.”

Dave put his arm around her, ostensibly to support her, but she bristled under the weight of it as it prevented her from saying anything private to Nora.

“Should we head to the lab, then?” Nora asked, eyes flickering between the floor and Shelby’s face.

Her mouth went dry, understanding that Nora was asking for permission because Toni would be there after her morning class. She had an idea. It made her hate herself and she’d have to go groveling to explain to Toni later, but if she could keep the pronouns vague then maybe she could sweep the thing under the rug long enough to maintain the status quo. It wasn’t like texting her was an option anymore.

“You can meet Toni, my undergrad,” Shelby said with a smile. “We have to text a lot to stay in touch about the project.”

Nora immediately glommed onto Daniel as soon as the words were said pestering him about some behavioral data. Meanwhile, Shelby accepted her father’s attention and began leading him toward the lab. She quite blithely described all the locations they passed from the locker areas, to the café, to the teaching labs with the ardor of an undergraduate tour guide. Behind them, Nora caught up, Daniel evidently having been detained in the clinic. Shelby talked rather louder than she needed to up the last stretch of corridor, but it was the only way she could think of warning Toni that she was coming.

Reflexively, Shelby’s eyes traveled to Toni’s bench. She was sitting with her right knee braced against her desk, looking a little nonplussed about what was taking Shelby so long to get back, but Toni’s gaze found her at once, and the happy lopsided smile Toni gave was enough to make her bite her bottom lip to keep from smiling back, Dave or no Dave. It took Toni a few seconds to register the man standing beside her and with a slight wrinkle in her forehead she looked away at something behind him. She half stood up, clearly either said or mouthed “ _Fuck_ ” and walked straight to the back of the lab, disappearing through the far door into the tissue culture room.

“So, this is our lab,” Shelby said airily. “And down here is the bay that I share with Nora.”

“This is wonderful, sweetheart,” Dave said. “Do you have any experiments going on right now I could see?”

Well, that was fucking disastrous, because the only thing she had on was the time course and that was happening in the tissue culture room. The room with one door Toni vanished into to hide. Shelby was scrambling for some excuse to explain why she couldn’t show it to him when Rachel entered the lab as though summoned by a genie. Rachel grinned at her, then absorbed the assembled company with a slightly surprised expression, especially Nora in her white coat, before settling on Shelby again.

“Hey, Shelby,” she said. “Long time no see. Nora, I don’t want to interrupt whatever this is, but is Toni around?”

“Not here,” Nora blurted out.

Rachel frowned. “She said she’d be here this morning.”

The timing. The sentence. Whatever Rachel wanted with Toni it could not have been worse.

“I’d like to meet this Toni,” Dave said.

Why were they playing pretend anymore? Dave saw Toni, knew who she was as soon as they walked into the lab, and Shelby shook her head slowly, knowing it was all a pointless farce trying to posture and go through the motions of him humiliating her in front of Toni and both Reid twins. And what about Rachel? Nora had been so tolerant of the mess with Toni, but there was no guarantee Rachel would react the same way. Cornered and at the end of her rope, Shelby looked Dave unwaveringly in the eye.

“Daddy,” she said. “Quick word, if you please.” She smiled but she echoed the words he’d used in Dallas. Intentional, sedate because she knew he wouldn’t make a scene. She held his hand like she had as a little girl, and brought him to the utility closet. Toni’s closet. Their closet. Arms crossed, she waited for the onslaught of his rebuke. He never yelled, but he always tore her limb from limb, driving each blow lower until he inevitably crippled her with the kidney shot.

“I knew this day would come,” he said quietly. “You are straying from the Lord’s path.”

“You have been spying on me,” Shelby countered.

“And who is this girl that’s got you so turned around? Nothing good is gonna come of that. Shelby. You know that in your heart.”

“You came up here deliberately to spy on me.”

“I see now how much you need to come home. Being up here hasn’t done you any good.”

Flaring with anger and refusing to be intimidated by him anymore she gritted her teeth, tongue going numb with adrenaline and terror. “I don’t care. Do whatever you want but I am staying in Minnesota.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I arranged all of this for you.” Dave walked halfway around her. “I gave it and I can take it away.”

“You can’t force me to go back to Dallas.”

His face hardened and he turned again, continuing the sensation she was being circled like a deer stripped from the herd. “You are living in sin.”

“I’m not living in anything! I’m not living at all!”

“You will come home to Dallas and—”

“You cannot _force_ me to go.”

“Shelby, you have lost your way up here, sweetheart. You know where this will lead. I don’t want you to be alone.”

It hurt, it always hurt, but she wasn’t alone—Fatin, she remembered Fatin. “I have stayed quiet until now, but if you threaten me again, I will make sure the world knows about you.”

For the first time in her entire life, he faltered. He took a half-step back from her and it was almost a trick of the light, the shadow of fear that passed over his face. Pressing the advantage, she chased it like blood in the water.

“You think I won’t? You think I won’t chase down every last reporter between here and Texas?”

“How’d—No.”

He froze, body rigid. His eyebrows drew down and a hundred emotions flitted through the set of his mouth, landing for a moment on something that looked like panic. Motionless, she could feel him searching her, plumbing the surface of her resolve for weakness, but as frightened and unready as she was, there was none. Nothing but a willingness to drown if it meant drowning him with her, lose everything if it meant being free.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said at last.

She shook her head, undeterred. “We know deep down the kind of man you are.”

“All that stuff—everything he told you is a filthy lie. You can’t—"

She had no clue what he meant but she didn’t flinch. “Do we understand each other?”

He swallowed, face lowered but blue eyes still tracked her as she lifted her chin, unbowed.

“And I’ve been going to church,” she bit out bizarrely. “First Baptist. My pastor is Jake Parker.”

He breathed heavily but he didn’t say anything else.

“You better go,” Shelby said, wanting as much to scream in triumph as fucking cry. “Don’t want to miss your flight.”

+o+o

“That son of a bitch.”

She winced almost as soon as the words left her mouth because that was an awful slur on Darlene’s honor and she loved her grandmother. How could he invade her privacy like that? It made her sick to her stomach because she realized he had been watching her since high school, ever since Becca, ever since she’d spent those three agonizing months—she almost hurled her phone across the lab intent on smashing it with every fiber of her being.

“Who is your phone carrier?” she asked Nora abruptly.

“Uhhh, Verizon I think,” Nora replied. “Pretty much your only choice if you want a signal in the lab.”

“Where’s Toni?”

“She left with Rachel right after you did.”

She refused to send one more goddamn text message with him watching her. Mind muddled, Shelby ripped the case off it and held her hand out to Nora.

“I need a paperclip,” she said.

The doctor dutifully found her one, but gave it to her at a distance as though she was afraid Shelby was going to rip her arm out of the socket. Shelby unbent it and jammed it into the little hole on the side her device. When the tray popped out, she grasped the card in it and proceeded to hit it as hard as she could with her stapler. Over and over until a crazed tear trickled down her cheek and she sat shaking with a partially dismantled stapler in her right hand.

“Do you want to go to Verizon?” Nora asked carefully.

“How did I get like this?” Shelby replied.

“It’s been a rough day for SIM cards and staplers but I think we can get back on track. It’s not even noon.”

“Shit, my next time point. Did I miss it?” She looked down at her watch from under her hand.

“Shelby, I don’t think the time course matters anymore.”

Shelby nodded, acquiescing to her because at that stage it was fucking pointless and what she needed to do first and foremost was see Toni. Spend thirty seconds looking into her face. Practically, it felt like the wrong order of operations, but the burning breathless thing in her chest demanded it and wouldn’t be satisfied until Shelby had seen her. She lurched up.

“I’m going to seventeenth,” Shelby said.

“Let me at least call Toni,” Nora objected. “Try to figure out where she is.”

Shelby waited as Nora tried first Toni, then Rachel. Neither of them answered.

“You know what’s funny about this,” said Nora. “She probably would have picked up for you.”

Not finding that funny in the slightest, Shelby pulled her coat on and made to leave.

“Shelby.” Nora blocked her way out of the bay, guiding her without touching her back into her chair. “Concentrate on your breathing. I’m really proud of you.”

It was only when she was sitting again that she felt her pulse tingling in her fingertips, felt the hot, fast rush of her breathing. She felt strangled, lightheaded, unable to get enough oxygen into her lungs. Her base reaction was to shove her hand into her bag, groping for her EpiPen, because it came on in a matter of seconds, crushing like the grip of anaphylactic shock. Catching sight of the autoinjector, Nora was suddenly touching her cheeks, looking into each eye, then down the front of her shirt. Cold fingers pressed into her carotid.

“We’re good,” Nora told her. “We don’t need that. Just focus on taking big, deep breaths. That’s it. And another one.”

Shelby obeyed, breathing in cadence with Nora’s instructions, gulping the air down. Crouching down, Nora sat on the floor in front of her, heedless of the salt and dirt and general lack of hygiene that went into the maintenance of lab linoleum. The doctor didn’t touch her again, but her voice was calm and practiced, ushering her through the long minutes of it until she slowly gave a final exhale.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a panic attack,” Shelby whispered, managing a smile.

“I’m trained for it.” Nora shrugged. “Do you still want to go find Toni?”

“Do you think I should?”

“I think you need glucose and sleep, but I’m just a doctor. Don’t listen to me.”

Helping Nora up, Shelby hugged her. She smiled awkwardly, but let Shelby express her thanks without speaking.

“Don’t you have Toni’s schedule memorized?” Nora asked.

Shelby almost laughed, thinking she must be making a joke, but Nora continued to look at her expectantly. Oh, Nora really did think she had Toni’s schedule memorized.

“New semester,” Shelby said. “I don’t know where she is.”

“Come on. Let’s try in the clinic. If we can’t find her, maybe Toni will respond to Martha.”

Nora walked with her, letting Shelby lose herself in thought. She could still see Dave’s eyes in that closet and it filled her with rage all over again. The bitter, reaching hypocrisy. Whatever he was hiding, she knew that look. The same desperate, guilty eyes she’d seen a thousand times in her own mirror.


	26. Chapter 26

Martha wasn’t in the clinic and no one knew where she was.

“She didn’t say where she was going?” Shelby asked.

Leah shook her head. “No, she just packed up with Toni and left.”

“So she’s _with_ Toni?”

“I assume so.”

“Just text her, Shelby,” Nora interjected.

Shelby raised her eyebrows. “With what SIM card?”

“I forgot about that.” Shrugging at Shelby’s questioning look, Nora protested, “A lot has happened this morning.”

“I need to go to get a new one.”

Nora opened her mouth, but settled with a sigh, clearly recognizing any prudent medical advice would be summarily ignored. “Someone should go with you.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“You haven’t slept in two days.”

“Where’s the closest Verizon?”

Pulling her phone out, Nora Googled it for her. “Looks like Roseville.”

“But where?”

“Uh, off thirty-six and thirty-five W? It’s across from Rosedale.”

Shelby nodded and prepared to go, but there were a few seconds of vehement whispering behind her and then Leah took a step toward her, pushed forward by Nora.

“Shelby, wait,” she called. “Can I come with you?”

Huffing in annoyance at Nora, Shelby pointed at her. “I do not need a babysitter.”

“I can’t go because I have clinic,” Nora replied. “Let Leah go with you.”

Shelby angled her head, gazing up at Leah. “You don’t have to.”

Seeming to take her in more carefully after the strangeness of the interlude with Shelby’s father, Leah nodded a little more eagerly. “I’ll come.”

For all that Leah’s legs were longer, she practically had to jog to keep up with Shelby’s pace as she charged across campus to get her car.

“So what happened with your phone?” Leah asked her, some five feet back.

Still shaken and not wanting to think about the stupidity of saying that stuff to her father, Shelby nearly told her the truth so she could rail about the whole situation to someone, but her precarious relationship with Toni was dangerous and required discretion. Biting back the bitter diatribe about Dave and her frustration with herself, Shelby decided on a safer version of the truth.

“Your parents ever spy on you, Leah?” Shelby said.

Leah laughed, an acidic edge in the sound. “Yeah, actually. Last year of high school.”

Shelby turned into the ramp, taking the stairs up two at a time so Leah had to actually run to prevent Shelby from losing her. Runner that Shelby was, her heart rate barely increased, topping out around eighty beats per minute as she strode across the third-floor landing. Leah gasped in the cold air as she brought up the rear.

“What happened?” Shelby asked her.

Puffing, Leah stopped to catch her breath. “What?”

“What were they doing?”

“Oh.” A beat of hesitation. “I—I guess this is a little on me, too.”

“How so?”

“I…kind of had this thing…with an older guy.” Leah forced a laugh. “Pretty embarrassing to think about now.”

“How much older?”

“Like fifteen years? I was seventeen but I lied and told him I was eighteen.”

Shelby frowned, looking over her shoulder for the first time. “Leah, that’s not a ‘thing’ with an older guy. That was predatory.”

“Yeah.” Leah nodded. “I know that now but at the time…I was just totally convinced I was in love with him.”

Ahead, Shelby could see the tail lights of her car, Texas plates. She dithered three yards from it and looked hard at the salt speckled black paint. Was he fucking tracking that, too? Everything was suddenly suspect and although the uncertainty pervaded, she realized she had to use it until she could arrange something of her own. That was her next priority. She unlocked it with the fob and got in with Leah.

“What happened after that?” Shelby prompted, wanting Leah to go on.

Leah shrugged in the passenger seat beside her. “I guess they did it because they love me or that’s what they told me.”

“You know what they say about good intentions.” Shelby started the car and shifted into reverse, the clutch feeling slow and sticky in the cold after being left out all night.

“They tracked my phone. Started keeping track of who I called or texted. To be fair I was pretty depressed. Acting erratically.”

“Breaks your trust though, doesn’t it?”

Licking her lower lip, Leah nodded with a mirthless smile. The roads were dry, but Shelby found herself thinking of Toni on the night of the MMF dinner. _…slower than you think you need._ She wasn’t dumb enough to think she’d cowed her father; all she’d done was buy precious time and far too little of it. It was just the calm in the kettle before the water boiled. Leah noticed her shifting easily through the gears.

“I always meant to learn to drive stick,” Leah said.

“It’s useful sometimes,” Shelby said, checking her blind spot as she merged onto I-35W. “More fun for sure.”

Finally, Leah asked the obvious question. “Was…your dad tracking your phone?”

“I should have gotten my own plan a long time ago.”

“I did. After what happened.”

Shelby focused on her breathing again. “Except you were seventeen and I’m twenty-six. I don’t know how I got here.”

“Because life isn’t fair. There are people who can be dicks to everyone and get away with it but you say no to something really fucked up one time and you’re the biggest jerk that ever lived. That’s not love.”

Shelby kept her attention on the asphalt whizzing past at 65 miles an hour but she heard the empathy in Leah’s voice.

‘I’m going to guess you’re probably _not_ dating some fifty-year-old dude named Jeff.”

Shelby smiled at the irony. “No.”

Leah let the response hang in the air, not pressing her to explain.

“Did you know I used to do pageants?”

“Like Miss America style?”

“Mmm-hmm. Swimsuits, talent competition, current affairs…the whole thing. My dad always liked me competing. You can’t be perfect if you’re not being judged.”

“And he can’t know you’re being a good daughter if he can’t see it for himself.” Fingers pressing into the fabric of her jeans, Leah nodded in understanding. “Makes my shit with my parents look pretty tame.”

“Not tame. Just different.”

They pulled up outside the strip mall where store stood and Shelby killed the engine, unable to get out of the car fast enough.

“You should try to go easy on yourself,” Leah said as Shelby unbuckled her seatbelt.

Shelby braced her hands against the wheel and turned her head to Leah. “Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of? That we won’t be loved? That we’ll be all alone?”

Leah didn’t reply, just went and held the door so they could both go inside.

+o+o

It took over an hour and there was a bit of kerfuffle because Shelby couldn’t remember her social security number and Leah’s confused “Who doesn’t remember their social security number?” did nothing but reinforce the point she’d been operating on the fringes of reality for most of her adult life, and perhaps more insidiously, that it had been done intentionally to cripple any attempt at independence. After a lot of muttering between the manager and the rep who Shelby was pretty sure was ripped out of his skull (to use one of Toni’s phrases) they agreed to let her pay a large deposit in lieu of having her credit run.

That was a whole other adventure she was going to have investigate as well. She didn’t know her credit score or even if she had the basic underpinnings of a credit score as she’d never had a loan or any financial responsibilities really other than being an authorized user on her parents’ credit cards. For the deposit, she gave the rep her debit card, the only card she had where she was the sole account holder. When they left, she read down the terms of her plan and sighed as she saw he’d misspelled her name _Selby Gookind_. Well, Selby Gookind was officially a Verizon customer with a 612 area code, and frankly it didn’t sound too bad. Calling Minnesota home.

“Leah,” Shelby said. “Thank you.”

Leah shrugged. “Of course. Train wrecks unite.”

Shelby dropped Leah back by campus, and made a secondary run to AT&T where she told them a very tragic, very false story about her original SIM card and got it replaced. When Shelby got home, she delayed outside the door. Was she going to need to do a Cold War style strip down of all her electrical switches? Search the vents for tiny hidden cameras? She rotated on the spot, turning away from the door and then back to it, then looked at the wreath on her neighbor’s door opposite. Valentine’s themed already; Toni would love it. She regretted taking Leah back to campus because working the interior over seemed like it might be something Leah would be into.

She finally went in with a sense of trepidation, trying to calm herself and rationalize that if Dave had gone so far as to bug her apartment then he’d know that Toni spent the night on Thanksgiving and it would have been immediate cause for alarm. No, likely the apartment was clean. The utilities were in her own name, including the fiber internet, not that she searched for anything particularly lascivious. Except for that one night she’d spent watching videos of Toni playing basketball. That might have been a dead giveaway. She laid her new phone and her old phone side by side on her kitchen counter and transferred the important numbers into the new one. Dot went first. Fatin. Darlene. Spencer. Nora. Martha. Leah. Toni’s 218 number went last, though not least. She was one of those insane people with a work phone and a personal phone. Gazing down at the screen, Shelby texted Toni with her new number.

_This is Shelby. Had to go get a new number. Text me back, okay?_

She waited a long time, but Toni didn’t reply. Trying not to worry about her, Shelby went through the other numbers except for Spencer and Darlene. Might be too difficult to tell her grandmother why she’d been obliged to get a whole new damn phone, already a thousand of her meagre ten thousand spent. At least her Baylor stipend was being direct deposited into her bank account. It would be plenty to live on if things truly fell apart. She cussed under her breath. Dave knowing about Toni was dangerous, but she didn’t think he knew much more about her than her phone number and gender and that might just be the difference between difficulty and utter devastating ruin. She didn’t quite know how it worked, but she blocked Toni’s number on her old phone before she put the fresh SIM in and prayed Dave would not be able to see any more messages that Toni might have sent her that morning. A few minutes later, Fatin responded to the new group chat Shelby set up with Dot.

_Facetime. Now._

Shelby dutifully opened up the app and called her.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Fatin said.

Judging by the white tile behind her head, Fatin was in a shadowy bathroom stall and Shelby frowned slightly. Two seconds later there was a knocking on the door and the view changed to Fatin’s shoulder, the ensuing conversation coming muffled through a layer of wool.

“Dottie, no,” Fatin said. “Well, fucking call in like a normal—you cannot get in here with me.” Mumbling. “Well, if everyone didn’t think we were lovers before they do now.” More mumbling. “No, I was in here first. Ugh, fine.”

When the image resolved itself, Fatin and Dot were crammed side by side into the stall, their black jackets indistinguishable from one another.

“Are you at GTW?” Shelby asked.

“Do we work anywhere else?” replied Dot.

“What if someone overhears you?”

“There’s no one else in here. We’ll hang up if someone comes in.”

“Then why are y’all both in one stall?”

They glanced at each other and then there was more mumbling as the screen went dark again. “I said it was stupid the first time. You’re standing on my foot.” A grunt, and Shelby heard the door creaking open as Fatin went, “Worth it just to touch that ass.” Then they both reappeared standing in front of the mirror, the room considerably brighter.

“Y’all done playing musical toilets?” Shelby asked.

Fatin laughed. “We have sassy Miss Texas today.”

“You never responded to my text earlier,” Dot said. “What’s up?”

“My dad showed up at my lab meeting this morning,” Shelby told them.

“Holy shit.”

“And more or less let me know he could see who I was texting without saying that in so many words.”

Fatin whistled. “That’s. Fucked. Up.”

“Is he still there?” pressed Dot.

“No.” Pushing her hair out of her face, Shelby shook her head. “I had a really weird—I don’t know what to call it.”

“New number was the right call for sure.”

“Worst part was he knew about Toni. Or sorta figured it out as we went along.”

Fatin leaned further into the frame. “Like knew about Toni or _knew_ about Toni?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Like he knows you’re kind of an item or he knows about the study.”

“First one. If he knew about the study, whole thing would be blown out of the water by now. I think I’ve done something really stupid.”

“Okay. Please elaborate.”

“He kept on asking to meet Toni and then he started saying he wanted me to come back to Dallas and I panicked. I told him I’d go to the press and—Oh, God.” Shelby cringed. “I’ve made such a huge fucking mistake. I don’t think there’s any coming back from this. Like why did I—”

“Shelby,” Dot broke in. “Don’t you think he crossed a line here?”

“He pays for my phone and I’m sure he felt entitled to—”

“He crossed a line. Full stop. You don’t have to rationalize this.”

Shelby nodded, not sure standing up to him would be worth the fallout. “He also was acting real weird.”

“Oh?” Fatin said.

“Yeah, just…squirrelly. I think he’s hiding something but I don’t know what.”

Fatin considered. “Ooh, Dave Goodkind. Now this has really gotten interesting.”

“I think I bought some time.”

“This moves your timeline up,” Dot commented.

“Yeah.” Shelby chewed at her lip, thinking. “I don’t have a copy of the deed to my house.”

“I can get that going for you with the county.”

“I just thought I’d have a little longer.”

“How’s Toni taking everything?” Fatin asked.

Shelby shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her and since I couldn’t text her it was total radio silence.”

“ _Call_ her.”

“I don’t know if she even wants to talk to—"

“For someone so smart you are so dumb. Call her.”

“Okay. I will.”

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Fatin looked directly into the camera. “And because this is a rapidly evolving situation, keep us in the loop, okay?”

“Okay.”

“We—” Fatin wrapped her arm around Dot’s shoulders. “—will do some digging here and try to see what we can find out.”

Dot laughed as she looked at Fatin. “Am I Cagney or Lacey?”

“I’m Rizzoli and you’re Isles.”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“Your cargo shorts understand that reference.”

Frowning, Dot glanced at the side of Fatin’s head. “What does that even mean?”

“It means Shelby is going to call Toni now.”

Dot’s next sentence was cut off by Fatin severing the call. Squashing down all of her misgivings, she picked up the new phone and dialed Toni’s number. It rang just three times before going to voice mail. Toni’s mailbox was set up with the most barebones of messages, just her number rattled off by synthesizer. Shelby didn’t bother leaving a message, instead opting to type out another text.

_Hope everything is okay. Really wish I could hear your voice._

She read it through twice, feeling like the second part was too much and too awkward and she couldn’t say stuff like that because it would just be emotional blackmail. She rubbed at her forehead, the beginnings of a headache coming on. Laying her cheek on her arms, she closed her eyes, intending to rest until Toni replied.

+o+o

The new phone buzzed beside her ear, jerking her awake. It was dark and she had a horrific kink in her neck, barely able to get herself upright enough to pick the phone up off the counter. The glaring light of the screen bathed her face and she saw she had a message from Dot.

_Any updates?_

She scrolled down through her notifications. No other missed calls or texts. Where was Toni? The read receipt on her text still read _Delivered._ She stiffly massaged the muscle in her neck, angling it uncomfortably until she had a semblance of fluid movement again. She briefly debated just going to the dorm and trying to corner her, but that was stalker tactics and did not respect her autonomy in any way whatsoever. More and more, she was actually starting to worry that something had happened to her. It was a gamble, but she decided to text Martha anyway.

_Hey, Martha. This is Shelby. New number. Do you know if Toni is okay?_

After it was sent, she tried to wet her lips and found the inside of her mouth was completely dry. She hadn’t eaten or bathed in what felt like days. Waiting by the phone wouldn’t make everyone notice her any faster, so she got off the kitchen stool, kind of amazed she hadn’t fallen off it while she was sleeping. She drank two full pints of water and went to shower. She was brushing her hair when Martha’s response dinged through.

_She’s fine. Just tired._

What the hell did that mean? And if she was fine but tired then why didn’t Toni text her back? She slid into bed, clutching her phone to her chest, but sleep eluded her for a long time. She looked up a car payment calculator and tried to figure out how much she could reasonably pay per month. Not knowing if it was a good or bad amount of money at all, she covered her face with both hands. Then she curled into a tight ball, drained and overwhelmed, and cried.

+o+o

Shelby Ubered to work the next day, even though logically it didn’t follow. If her old phone was compromised then the car hardly mattered. It had the added benefit that she didn’t have to really walk anywhere, just down into the side entrance of the Weaver-Densford building on Harvard Street, but it also meant she got to the lab faster with no time to think and she took the last few feet into the lab at a veritable crawl. In the end, she needn’t have bothered, because the only other person there was Nora. She was back in her normal clothes and she looked irritatingly concerned as she leaned over to see Shelby over her bench.

“Hey,” she called out. “How did it go yesterday?”

“I got a new phone,” Shelby said, holding them both out for Nora to see.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that myself. You know, like one work, one personal.”

“Except I have one friends, one tracking device.”

“They’re both technically tracking devices.”

“Thanks, Nora.”

Oblivious to Shelby’s sarcasm, Nora nodded. “I wonder if you could have avoided the second one and worked around using WhatsApp or something.”

Shelby shook her head. “No, I did not want there being any doubts or questions.”

“Did you ever find Toni?”

“I called and texted and nothing. I got worried so I texted Martha and…look.” Navigating to her messages, Shelby let Nora read the two-text exchange.

“Toni left you on read?”

“I don’t think so. It never went from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ so I’m not sure she even saw it.”

“By the way, I did eventually hear back from Rachel. She said they were together for only about five minutes when Toni suddenly grabbed Martha and said she had to go.”

“What is going on?”

Nora she crossed her arms. “Have you eaten anything in the past thirty-six hours?”

“Not sure why that matters.”

Shelby ran one hand over her hair, pushing it behind her ear. She was just about to slip both phones into her top desk drawer when the new one vibrated in her hand. Toni, finally.

_probably not going to make it in today. sorry._

Truly worried at that point, Shelby typed back straight away. _Are you feeling okay? Can I bring you anything?_

_i'm good, thanks_

Shelby blinked at the message, frustrated and confused. She held the phone out to Nora again who read down the conversation with her eyebrows raised.

“What do I do?” Shelby asked.

“Toni—” Nora stopped, looking up at Shelby with a thoughtful expression. “What do you think you should do?”

“Throw both of these phones in the trash and just go back to Texas.”

“Well, that’s the wrong answer.”

“I can’t read her damn mind. Like what—”

“And she can’t read yours either.”

Shrugging, Shelby pressed her lips together, not knowing what she was supposed to do with that information.

Nora sighed like she was talking to a small child. “You didn’t hear this from either me or Rachel, but go get some of those chip things she likes. Takis. Bring them to her. Then just be there and don’t pressure her to talk. There. Now we’re both compromised.”

Taken aback, Shelby lingered for a few seconds to absorb it. “Will you let Daniel know where I am if he asks?”

She gave Nora a goodbye wave. Shelby reckoned Nora would not have given her the suspiciously specific instructions if she wasn’t meant to follow them and so she swung by the drug store on the corner of Walnut and Washington and bought a bag of Takis to take to Toni. Then she turned off her old phone, because if Dave was tracking her then the fucking Walgreens would be her last known location. She walked to Toni and Martha’s dorm, still bewildered why Nora thought that was the tack she should be taking given everything that happened the day before. Truth be told, she looked a bit old to be trying to get into the dorm, but gosh Minnesotan college students were trusting, and some guy actually held the door open for her as she approached.

The issue of getting access bypassed, she climbed the stairs to Toni’s floor and paused outside Toni’s room. What a wildly different vibe from the last time she’d seen it. With a powerful sense of uncertainty, Shelby knocked. It took a few seconds, but she heard a stirring behind the door and after a short period of shuffling it was flung open to reveal Toni. She was evidently _not_ expecting to see Shelby and her expression seemed to go through all five stages of grieving in a single split second, falling in acceptance at the last. She did look tired, hair loose across her shoulders, sweatpants and a T shirt that hung comically on her slender frame. Mouth open, she took another step outside the threshold, letting the door close to a sliver of darkness behind her.

“Hey,” Shelby said.

“Hey,” Toni replied. “Sorry I didn’t make it in.”

“That’s not why I’m here. I came to see how you’re doing.”

“Fine.” She broke eye contact, gazing at the floor. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

“You going to invite me in?”

“I...I don’t know, Shelby. Not sure that’s such a good idea right now.”

Shelby stood up a little straighter, studying her. Nora said not to pressure her to talk, and she thought of the way the doctor had coached her through her panic attack. Gentle and encouraging.

“That’s okay,” Shelby said carefully, then remembered the Takis. “Here. I brought these for you.”

Handing them over, she hoped the purple bag would help thaw things a bit. Toni accepted them wordlessly, crinkling the edges of the plasticky foil material together. Toni's jaw tightened and when she looked at Shelby again there was so much conflict in her eyes.

“I was just a little worried after yesterday, when you didn’t respond,” Shelby told her.

“There was a thing with my mom,” Toni said slowly. “Kind of took priority.”

Shelby didn’t say anything, seemed to sense that talking was the wrong thing, and as she stood there hesitating, she didn’t know why she was bothering to second guess herself. She’d thrown herself into the dark of the rabbit hole with no way to scrabble back out again. She could cling there for a while, but eventually she would have to let go. So instead of asking about it, she moved forward, trying to take Toni’s hand. At first, Toni resisted, stiffening and making a noise that made Shelby afraid Toni was going to fight her, but after an anguished look that she couldn’t read, didn’t understand, Toni sort of went limp and submitted to it.

“Is everything okay?” Shelby said.

“Fine,” Toni said flatly. “I was just stupid. Again.”

She didn't know what Toni meant but finally stepped back, acknowledging that Toni was not in the mind state to let Shelby comfort her. Crossing her arms over her chest, Toni leaned back against the door frame, face drawn.

“Look,” she said, “I’m honestly not feeling great. Can we—"

“Yesterday was a bad day,” Shelby interrupted.

“Shelby…”

“I won’t stay long, I promise.”

Pushing past Toni sufficiently to grope for the door handle, Shelby pushed it open and motioned inside. Toni shook her head slightly, but Shelby rolled her eyes and gave her a little shove into the room. She got her shoes and coat off and went immediately to Toni’s bed, sitting down onto the mattress. Still hovering near the door, Toni regarded her with some skepticism.

“Nora gave me a sage piece of advice,” Shelby began, gathering up some of the sheet in her palm, feeling nervous. “She told me you couldn’t read my mind. Do you know what I want more than anything right now?”

“Some Takis?” Toni asked, lifting the bag by the corner.

She laughed. “No. You and I just to be close to one another.”

Toni crossed the room reluctantly, and stood in front of the bunk. Then she sat down next to Shelby and opened the Takis, offering her one. She took one and ate it. Toni crunched her way through half of them within seconds. Shelby, meanwhile, contented herself with sitting there with her, not touching because she’d tried that and the circumstances didn’t seem to tolerate it.

“Are you just gonna watch me?” said Toni. “Because that’s really fucking weird and uncomfortable.”

“I don’t eat that kind of stuff often,” Shelby replied.

“Delicious stuff?”

“Not sure that qualifies as delicious.”

Toni pointed at the door. “I will not hesitate to tell you to get out of this room.”

Smiling, Shelby ate a few more, never much for junk food, but she was starving and the gesture was sweet. Soon the empty bag was left discarded on the floor and Toni sat sucking the last of the flavored powder off her thumb.

“I saw your dad,” Toni said at length.

“He’s why I had to get the new number,” Shelby said. “New phone, too. Just in case."

“Jesus Christ. Given what you’ve told me…fuck, I don’t know.”

“Just means I have to do some stuff sooner than I thought.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you meet him.”

“What? Shelby, even if I was a dude and this was a normal situation I wouldn’t have asked for that.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want you to think it’s because I’m ashamed of you.”

Toni’s eyes searched her face. “You don’t have to make everyone happy all the time.”

“Well, he was N-O-T _not_ happy with me yesterday.”

"What the hell is his problem?"

Shelby prevaricated, not wanting to say it but knowing she needed to. "I...I'm not... _out_ to my family. I've spent so long trying to be different."

"Yeah, I gathered that. I see it."

“He started saying I needed to come back to Dallas. I told him I wanted to stay here and—” She shook her head, forestalling Toni’s reply. “I know how it looks. I’m twenty-six and it’s pathetic because I’ve never had to do anything for myself in my whole life. My daddy comes up here one time and I’m in pieces because he might take my credit cards away.”

Toni frowned. “Is that how you think I feel about this?”

“It’s how I’d feel about this, if I were you.”

“You could always fucking ask me. ‘Hey, Toni! How do you feel about my controlling homophobic dad coming to Minneapolis to terrorize me?’ And I’d say I feel pretty shitty about it and I _get_ why you’re scared of him and why you walk on eggshells trying not to upset things.”

“Toni—”

“Give me _some_ fucking credit here.”

“How am I—you’re always so brave and always tell people what you think, and all I do is do what I’m told and—”

“Except you don’t and you didn’t. Sounds like you did what you had to do.”

“I guess.” Shelby turned more toward her. “We’re talking too much about me. Yesterday must not have been easy for you, either.”

All the animation in Toni’s eyes died and she sat back, sobered. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

“I do actually.”

“No, you don’t.” She stood up and walked across the room. “Look, maybe we should just cool it for now. You have stuff going on—"

“Are you asking me to go?”

“Maybe. Yeah.”

Shelby winced internally because she’d gone off script and Nora’s guidelines were very, very clear. Don’t pressure her to talk. And lo and behold, as soon as she started pressuring Toni to talk the mostly reasonable encounter was going sideways.

“Hey.” Shelby beckoned for her. “Come here.”

“I just kind of want to be alone right now.”

Not liking that development, Shelby watched her and after a bit, went to her and gently took her by the shoulders. If Toni didn’t want to talk then they didn’t have to and it was all instinct, the way she was careful not to lick her lips before dipping her head and giving Toni a single soft, chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. It seemed to startle her more than anything else, and the change in her demeanor was palpable. From closed and unwilling to disoriented and vulnerable all in an instant, looking up at her with something like disbelief.

“What happened to no touching?” Toni said.

“Calculated risk,” Shelby replied, even though it wasn’t anything of the sort, nothing more than a moment of weakness and the need to reassure her.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble.” Shelby motioned toward the bed. “Come here.”

“No, Shelby, your career—”

“It’s not that kind of thing.”

Toni stared at her. “You just asked to get into bed with me. How is it _not_ that kind of thing?”

“Because it’s not.”

Toni looked at her for a long time before she finally nodded and let Shelby guide them back. Settling into the sheets strategically until they were spooned against one another, Shelby wrapped her left arm securely around Toni’s waist, the right under her neck.

“See?” Shelby asked, the softest laugh in the question. “No temptation this way.”

Well, no temptation for kissing anyway, not that she thought they were in particular danger of that with how distant Toni still felt. There was still a tenseness in the line of her body, but Shelby found herself drawing comfort from Toni’s touch as much as wanted to give it. She kept expecting it to feel tentative or uncomfortable in some way, too much or too soon, a badly choreographed dance of limbs and elbows, but as soon as they slotted together, they just seemed to fit. Toni felt warm, solid and strong, and her fingers laced quickly with Shelby’s, accepting her.

“This is stupid,” she mumbled at last.

“But it’s nice, right?” Shelby asked.

“Mostly stupid.”

“You’re all hat and no cattle.”

“Never say that again,” Toni said, but Shelby could feel the tremor of her silent laughter.

“You love that I’m Texan.” She felt Toni start to roll over to face her, but held her down by the hip. “Don’t rock the boat, Shalifoe. This is the only way it works.”

“I just…I want to tell you something.”

“And I want to hear it with you facing over there.”

Toni took a deep breath. “There’s not really a low sodium version of this story and you don’t have to listen to it—”

“Whole reason we’re laying here is so I can listen.”

“I feel so stupid.”

“As stupid as this cuddling?”

“Stupider even. More stupid.”

Shelby nuzzled the back of her shoulder. “The Toni I know is damn smart. You’re not stupid.”

“I got a text yesterday from my mom. Telling me she ‘slipped up.’”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s this bullshit thing she says when she’s been using and doesn’t want to admit it.”

She didn’t know the right terminology, but her heart ached for Toni. “Is that…like a relapse?”

“She ended up overdosing. I went to the hospital thinking—I don’t know, that maybe—I don’t know.”

“Oh, Toni. Is she okay?”

Muscle flexed away from her, Toni rolling in on herself. “Alive you mean? Yeah. She was already trying to leave HCMC by the time I got there. I followed her for a while but…”

“Do you know where she went?”

Toni shrugged under her arm.

“We could go now and try to find her.”

“That’s not how it works. I said my piece and that’s it. That’s all I can do.”

Shelby squeezed her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have been here.”

“It’s awkward. People never know what to say so they just change the subject, and who the fuck cares? It’s not like it’s the first time.”

“I care. You’re important to me.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Shelby didn’t know how to convince her, how to explain that her mother’s actions didn’t make Shelby think any less of her, but there was a lifetime of pain under the words and she felt, incredibly powerfully, that maybe she and Toni did understand each other more than she’d realized. Toni sighed and shifted, and Shelby breathed in the scent of her hair.

“She doesn’t define you,” Shelby said.

“She had almost two years clean and I really thought—I don’t know why I thought this time would be different.”

“When you love someone, you keep on forgiving ‘em, even when they don’t deserve it.”

“How are we such idiots? We keep doing the sad stupid thing.” She could feel Toni’s chin again her bicep. “I’m thinking that this time, just this time…maybe it won’t fall apart.”

She knew what Toni meant and cradled her closer, kissing her shirt. Toni nodded slightly as though in agreement to the unspoken thing that passed between them and worked her fingertips under the cuff of Shelby’s shirt to touch her skin. An easy silence filled the room, and Shelby felt like she could spend the rest of her life just lying with Toni, a strange languid contentment overtaking her. They spent several long minutes listening to each other breathe, and Shelby wondered if Toni could feel her heartbeat.

+o+o

They must have fallen asleep because the next thing Shelby knew she was awoken by a shocked gasp somewhere in the doorway. Squinting into the light from the hall, Shelby saw Martha halfway out of the shoulder straps of her backpack. Her gaze flew from Toni to Shelby to Toni again, and her eyes widened as she hastily tried to back out of the room with her hand over her face.

“Marty, it’s fine!” Toni yelled out in a raspy voice, but Martha rebounded headlong off the doorjamb twice before fleeing, the door shutting with a click.

"Dammit," Shelby swore with a grimace. “She’s got the wrong end of that stick.”

Beside her, Toni laughed, turning onto her back. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her.”

They made two seconds of intense eye contact before Shelby clamored over her, knowing they needed to separate or be lost. Fetching her shoes, she sat back down on the edge of the mattress to put them on, and still groggy, Toni curled around her back, laying her head on Shelby’s thigh.

“We have not been good with the rules today,” Toni said, although she made absolutely no move to try to start following them.

“Don’t really care to be honest. We’ll start again tomorrow.”

Shelby absently stroked Toni’s hair back from her face, completely losing track of her shoe laces and leaving in general. It was thick and soft under her hand and she slowly ran her fingers through it.

“What are you going to do about your dad?” Toni asked.

“I don’t know,” Shelby admitted, smile faltering. “I’ll figure it out.”

Toni yawned. “I want to help you. We can come up with a plan.”

“This is my problem. You don’t have to do that.”

“Shelby, we _spooned_.”

Laughing, Shelby traced Toni’s cheekbone with her thumb, wanting to bend down and kiss her. “Oh, okay. I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Hey, Texas?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the Takis.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for your kind comments! They give me life.

Shelby held the polystyrene plate up to the light, examining the slight haze on the plastic which told her there were cells inside. Then, she put it on the microscope so she could evaluate it for fluorescent protein expression. As she moved from top to bottom, a progressively stronger green signal glowed. She was on the third day of her restarted time course and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. When she looked up again, she caught Toni staring at her through the open door of the tissue culture room and half smiled at the way Toni’s eyes widened and she hastily turned away. Busted.

Over the past five days, Shelby waited patiently for her inevitable comeuppance, but she hadn’t gotten it from either Dave or Jobeth. She received a semi-concerned text message from Spencer the day before. He only asked her how Dave’s visit had gone, though. She didn’t like it, but she also didn’t want to upset whatever delicate equilibrium she’d formed either. The longer she had to sort everything out the better. Stuffing her plate back into the incubator, she walked back out to her bay and shed her gloves. She slumped down in her chair, resuming her perusal of apartment ads.

“Which one of these is more important?” Shelby asked.

“What?” replied Nora, glancing over her shoulder.

“Should I be worrying about the apartment or the car more?”

Toni stuck her head under the shelves, leaning across the bench. “Here in the city?”

"Yeah.”

“Transit doesn’t suck too bad.”

“Except in the winter,” Nora said. “Which is nine months out of the year.”

“So the car?” Shelby pressed.

“You can always sleep in a car,” Toni reasoned. “Hard to drive an apartment.”

Nora turned around. “But does she _need_ the car?”

“She’s like checking out crackhead Craigslist right now.”

Shelby sighed. After totting up the numbers, she only had something like $900 a month to dedicate to new accommodation and the only thing in the ballpark was a shared apartment in one of those overpriced buildings designed to take advantage of undergraduates by pairing them with wholly unsuitable roommates.

“Why are there so many ‘luxury’ apartments?” Shelby complained, scrolling down the listings. “They’re asking eight fifty to share a place with four other people.”

“That sounds like the beginning to a sitcom,” said Nora.

“At this point, I’d kill to just go back to the dorms again. It’d be so much easier.”

“Isn’t there professional student housing?” Toni said. “Like that place up on Como.”

Nora frowned. “Don’t you have to be married for that?”

“Sign me up,” Shelby relented, left palm against her forehead. “It can’t be worse than living with strangers off Craigslist, good Lord.”

“Look it up, Shelby,” Toni said. “It’s called like Como Co-op or some shit like that.”

Shelby Googled it at her request and on the home page read the header _An engaged community for University of Minnesota student-families, married couples, domestic partners, individual graduate students—_ She stopped reading as soon as she hit that segment and gazed up at Toni, excited.

“It says individual grad students are eligible,” Shelby said.

“See, there you go,” Toni encouraged.

She navigated further through the pages and discovered the rent was only $930 a month, all utilities and gigabit internet included. She also wasn’t obligated to have a roommate. It wasn’t anything special, but it was a roof and the price was sure as hell right. Grinning, she half stood up, the most enthused she’d felt since Dave’s sneak attack.

"How did you know about this place?” she asked.

Toni gave her a casual, lopsided shrug. “I dunno.”

“You looked for me.”

“Uh, no—pfft. That’s…no.”

Shelby made eye contact with her, holding it so Toni knew how grateful she was. “I could kiss you.”

“Please don’t!” Nora exclaimed.

Oblivious, Shelby turned back to her screen. “If I get on the waiting list now, I might have a place by March.”

Toni bit her lip, her obvious gratification at having been helpful suffusing her expression. Shelby smiled in return only be distracted by the ringing of her old phone. Shelby blinked down at the name illuminated on the screen. The call was from Darlene. She picked it up with a slight frown of confusion, not sure why Darlene would be calling her in lab mid-morning.

“Hi!” Shelby said.

“Is this Shelby?” Darlene asked, clearly still not understanding the concept of mobile phones and their singular owners.

“Yes, Grandma. This is Shelby.” 

“Well, isn’t that lovely, getting you on the first try.”

Toni gave her a funny look from across her bench, involving a lot of raised eyebrows and apprehension to see the old phone in operation. Covering the microphone with her hand, Shelby mouthed “Grandma” at her and Toni puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled in relief. 

“How are things in Dallas?” asked Shelby.

“I went to the cardiologist today—” Darlene replied.

Slightly alarmed, Shelby interrupted her. “Is everything okay?”

“Honey, when you’re my age sometimes you have to go to the cardiologist. Just a checkup for my pacemaker.”

She relaxed again. “And how did it go?”

“It took an hour and half for them to draw my blood!”

“Sometimes those things can take a while.”

“And that was in addition to the doctor’s appointment. I am worn out.”

“I don’t like seeing the doctor either.” A muffled scoff sounded from Nora’s direction and Toni burst out laughing, quelled only when Nora glared at her.

“I’ve been watching the weather in Minneapolis every day! You’ve had quite the cold spell.”

“I think it was negative twenty yesterday.”

“Brrrr! I can’t even imagine.”

Licking her lips quickly, Shelby blurted out, “You haven’t heard from my dad have you?”

“From David? No, why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Shelby shook her head at Toni’s wide eyes. “Just making sure he’s calling and being a good son.”

“That’s very nice of you Shelby, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Truth be told, she really didn’t want Darlene to mention it to anyone.

“I mailed you a card the other day. I put ten dollars in it. Take a night off and buy yourself a pizza.”

Shelby almost laughed, because she knew the value of money enough to know that $10 wasn’t going to buy much more than Little Caesars, but she instead focused on the dubious prospect of sending a crisp $10 bill through the United States Postal Service. “Grandma, you’re not supposed to mail cash to people.”

“I know! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Then Shelby did laugh at her grandmother’s idea of sticking it to the proverbial man.

“We’re rebels, you and I, Shelby. We were born to break rules.”

The context was all wrong and it wasn’t what Darlene meant, but somehow the sentiment was reassuring and she smiled, turning the topic to how Spencer was doing in Philadelphia. Their conversation went on another fifteen minutes, and during it, Shelby glanced furtively over at Toni. She had problems with her family, but they weren’t like Toni’s situation with her mother. Despite some gentle questioning, all she’d learned for her efforts was that Toni was good at dodging Shelby’s follow-ups. So when the call ended, Shelby went around the bench to Toni, holding the old phone with folded hands in front of her. Toni looked up from her work, mouth quirking in silent question.

“How are you?” Shelby asked softly.

“Fine,” Toni answered, fighting a bemused laugh. “Why?”

“You sure?”

Realizing what she was implying, Toni nodded somberly. “Yeah.”

“No news?”

“Shelby, it’s not a big deal. It’s not the first time.”

“I wish I could figure out how to help or at least reassure you I’m not gonna let you down.”

“Am I being rickrolled?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “I’d sing it if I was trying to do that.” 

Without so much as smiling, Toni started writing in her lab notebook again. Not certain if she made the impression she wanted or not, Shelby let it lie again.

“What about you?” Toni said. “Any updates?”

“Dottie’s under a mountain of paper work, but Fatin is still asking around. Nothing else has changed.”

“No news is good news?”

“In this case, I’d say so.”

That afternoon, Rachel reappeared following her ill-timed visit to the lab previous week. After a quick greeting to Shelby, she took Shelby’s bench stool and sat in a circle with Nora and Toni. Although Shelby didn’t involve herself in it, she was close enough to hear what they were saying, and she was somewhat curious what it was that Toni was doing that required Rachel in addition to her sister.

“Hey, sorry about last time,” Toni said to Rachel.

Rachel shook her head. “Real life comes first. Totally cool.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, so the main obstacle is giving you access to log in to one of the Epic terminals.”

Nora nodded. “I have the ball rolling on that with M Health already.”

With that, they discussed the details of Toni’s UROP, which apparently involved Rachel because Toni needed access to the patient data from physical therapy patients and neurology patients. The goal was to scrape out data on the disease progression in multiple sclerosis patients given anti-viral therapy versus physical therapy in tandem with an immunosuppressive regimen. Made sense that Toni would be pro-active about moving to Nora’s research. It was really an interesting project and when their meeting was over, Shelby sat filling out her new housing application musing on how much of the project’s premise Toni had come up with on her own. 

+o+o

Shelby saw Martha for the first time since the walk-in misunderstanding at lab meeting. She and Toni had been really very good about obeying the terms of the “no touching” arrangement since the day of the accidental nap. When Shelby’s eyes met Martha’s across the table, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the suggestive eyebrow raise that Martha gave her was _not_ it and she glanced at Nora, wishing Toni was there to explain the meaning of that look because she couldn’t begin to interpret it at all. When the meeting was over, Martha detained her in idle conversation.

“Hi, Shelby,” Martha said.

Shelby hugged her laptop to her chest, fearing what Martha might say next. “Hi, Martha.”

“Sorry I didn’t get to say hi to you the other day.”

Becoming irrationally interested in the ceiling, Shelby cleared her throat. “Oh! That uh. Didn’t really have time for—wow.”

Nora approached them from her position in the corner of the room, frowning slightly at Shelby’s beet red blush as she said, “Hey, guys.”

“I was just inviting Shelby to hang out with us on Saturday,” Martha said.

Her fears somewhat allayed, Shelby gave up scrutinizing the dusty drop tiles, but Nora blanched, emitting a horrible groan as she shook her head at Martha. Shelby laughed at Nora’s reaction, curious why she was so adamant that Shelby not join them.

“Is this like some super secret meeting I’m not invited to? Shelby asked.

“No!” Nora cried. “It’s um—I don’t think it’s really your thing and you probably wouldn’t be interested.”

“It’s a group thing,” said Martha. “Leah will be there, too. Won’t you, Leah?”

“Confused but excited!” called an unseen voice.

“And Toni.”

It was Shelby turn to match Nora’s dismay. “Is she? I’m not sure—maybe not this time?”

Nora narrowed her eyes at Martha. “Toni is not going to be happy about this.”

Clearly Martha knew there was something going on between Shelby and Toni, but thus far they’d only really had to make a poor attempt at disguising themselves in the lab in front of Nora. Shelby panicked slightly at the thought of having to go through the motions with Martha and Leah as well. They might as well hang a big banner up in the clinic celebrating the advent of their new and strictly forbidden relationship.

“Y’all have fun,” Shelby said at length.

Nora seemed pleased enough by that pronouncement, but Martha objected, “Come on, Shelby! We never spend any time together outside of work anymore.”

“Your funeral,” Nora muttered.

“I’m sure Toni would love to see you.”

Shelby wasn’t so sure about that given Nora’s repeated warnings, so she hedged with a shrug. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

As she walked back to the lab with Nora, the doctor said rather bluntly, “Well, Martha obviously stans you and Toni.”

“I’m never sure how to use stan,” Shelby said.

“Isn’t that what the kids say?”

“Real strange hearing it come out of your mouth.”

“Ship? Do people still say that?”

“Only if you write fanfiction.”

Nora rounded on her. “Do _you_ write fanfiction?”

“No, but I think it’s clear that you do.”

Sighing, Nora trudged onward toward the lab. “This might be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

“I do like your finsta with the birds in wigs.”

“It has like ten thousand more followers than my real insta. What does that say about me as a human?”

Shelby put her hand on Nora’s shoulder. “Your grand rounds posts are always good. People are shallow.”

“Anyway, back to Saturday. You know you shouldn’t see Toni outside of work.”

Knowing she was right, Shelby nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“Just looking out for you, Shelby.”

“Kinda irritating that you can see her.”

“Actually, I probably shouldn’t be seeing her either.”

Toni was already logging data by the time Shelby and Nora returned, and Shelby leaned over the bench so she could see her under their shared shelving. Frowning suspiciously at the way Shelby was looking at her, she set aside her stack of papers and ducked slightly to make eye contact.

“Can I help you?” Toni asked.

“Help me?” Shelby replied.

“What’s with that fucking look?”

“What look?”

“You shouldn’t answer a question with a question.”

“So what’s going on Saturday?”

Pushing back from the bench, Toni’s mouth rounded in indignant accusation. “You are not invited!”

Shelby laughed at her. “You are being so suspicious right now. All you’re doing is making me want to go.”

“Shelby, for real. Rilke and I are trying to do Marty a solid that’s all.”

“Why does Nora get to be there?”

“She has to be there. We’re going to dip early anyway. You won’t be missing anything.”

“I told you,” Nora sing-songed in an undertone.

“Like this is some next level nerd shit.”

“Hey!”

“You know this is just going to make me ask Martha,” said Shelby.

Grumbling in defeat, Toni gestured at Nora. “Should I tell her?”

Nora hummed contemplatively. “In for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose.”

Motioning to Shelby, Toni led her away, glancing over her shoulder at the door to the lab. Shelby shot Nora a perplexed look and allowed herself to be taken to the lab and stuffed into the walk-in cold room.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Toni asked.

The question in and of itself made Shelby choke on a chuckle, but she quashed it down. “I promise to try to take you seriously. Yes.”

“Marty has a crush on some guy named Marcus. He’s this huge nerd and plays that game thing Nora dungeon masters or whatever the fuck you call it. So Rilke and I like fucking volunteered as tribute so she would have an excuse to hang out with him.”

Immediately breaking her promise, Shelby burst out laughing. “ _That’s_ what y’all are sneaking around? Because Nora bamboozled you into playing that game with her?”

“Why is this funny?”

“You’re just so sweet under that tough exterior.”

Toni crossed her arms. “I have street cred!”

“Oh, yeah? You mean your reputation as a marshmallow?”

She hung onto Toni as she laughed, doubled over, and then howled louder when Toni worked her hands up Shelby’s ribs, half prodding her and half tickling her as punishment. Shelby caught at her forearms, holding her elbows close to guard her torso as they wrestled. So of course they ended up bear hugged together, with Shelby’s arms around Toni’s shoulders after nearly a week of following the rules to the letter. Toni pulled away almost at once, until she was at arm’s length, and only turned back because Shelby still had hold of her hand.

“Don’t blow it now,” Toni said. “It’s only been like a week.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “All right. You win.”

“This shit is for both of us.”

“I know—”

“Because they’re going to think you seduced me.”

She knew Toni meant it as a joke, but the truth of it stung, and she dropped Toni’s hand, smile fading. “I’ve missed you.”

“You see me every day.”

“Yeah, all right. Between you and Nora I don’t need extra reminding about the rules.”

“Shelby, you think I don’t want to see you?”

“I just wish there was some way we could do things not in lab.”

Toni’s expression softened, and she reached out for Shelby’s hand again. “I know. Me, too.”

“Nothing alone or anything. Just something dumb and safe.”

“Like what?”

Shrugging, Shelby slipped her hand back into Toni’s. “Grocery shopping. Getting my damn oil changed. I don’t know.”

Toni laughed, rubbing her thumb over Shelby’s knuckles. “Hard pass on the oil change, Texas.”

“I got an email back from that Como place. They want me to come do a tour on Monday. Maybe…if it’s not too stupid an idea, you could come with me?”

“Won’t there be university people that might see us?”

Shelby relented, disappointed. “You’re right. You don’t have to.”

“No. You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you in Dinkytown.”

“Toni—”

“Nah, fuck it. This is like the most boring shit ever. Even Nora can’t complain.”

Shelby held onto her, eyes searching her face to reassure herself that Toni was really as okay as she claimed. The sudden metallic clink of the cold room door shutting brought Shelby back to reality, and she shot away from Toni as though electrocuted, rounding the shelves to walk out first. Toni followed on her heels.

+o+o

That was how Shelby ended up outside the McDonald’s in Dinkytown at 1:00 in the afternoon the following Monday. Her old phone was safely secured in the top drawer of her desk in the lab, but she had her car and leaned casually against the trunk so she could look out for Toni. It was bright out, all blue and sunshine glinting off everything, the snow, the glass, the passing cars. The wind was surprisingly calm, so the wait was at least bearable, though as Shelby watched the students come and go, she started to feel far too old to be skulking around a college campus. She started to mull about her age difference with Toni. It didn’t _feel_ much like anything. She and Toni were at different stages of life, but Toni was remarkably hard and self-sufficient. Somehow, she knew without asking that Toni was the kind of person who would have her social security number memorized.

The thought left her as she saw Toni at the top of the stairs that led down into the parking lot. In its place, a new anxiety took her. What was going to be the proper etiquette? Could she sneak in some innocuous hand holding in the car? Surely they should follow the terms of the agreement, but Toni was wearing her Carhartt, hands deep in the pockets as she weaved her way between the cars in the drive through line toward Shelby. Her forehead furrowed as she somehow simultaneously raised her eyebrows and squinted into the light, unsmiling and expectant.

“How was your game with Nora?” Shelby asked.

“Do not fucking ask,” Toni replied. “They wouldn’t let me be the barbarian! Marty was all like, ‘It’s supposed to be a fantasy game. Not real life.’”

“I reckon she had a point.”

“Can I drive?”

Shelby pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Oh, I’m sure my daddy would love that.”

“Well, if he didn’t want a lesbian driving his car, he shouldn’t have given it to you.”

“ _Nobody_ said I was a…” Shelby’s voice trailed off, and she cast her eyes upward toward the sky.

“Referring to me, not you. I’m not out here to put you in a box.” Toni cupped both hands and held them out. “So can I drive or what?”

Shelby dropped her fob into Toni’s palms. “Might as well.”

“Yes!”

The hiss of her excited S resounded over the roof of the car as Toni went around the driver’s side and got in. She had the engine started before Shelby even opened the passenger door, revving it experimentally in neutral a few times.

“I still don’t know why you like this car so much,” Shelby said.

“This is the _nicest_ fucking car I’ve ever been in,” said Toni. “And when I drive it, I get to be with you.”

“Should I be flattered or jealous?”

“A little from column A, a little from column B.”

Toni took off in the direction of the cooperative housing block, but as soon as they were comfortably in fourth gear, her fingers slipped off the shifter and accidentally brushed the back of Shelby’s wrist. The sensation sent a jolt through her, skin tingling where they’d made contact.

“Sorry,” Toni said quickly, automatically.

“We’re going need to get used to touching,” Shelby pointed out.

“Yeah, but it would be a lot fucking easier if—” She broke off on the pretense of shifting into neutral for the light.

“If what?”

“If we could—Oh my God, Shelby. Do you actually want to have this conversation? Like right now?”

Her pulse sped up, and given her inability to even say “lesbian” in the parking lot did not do a lot for her confidence, but there was something in her that wanted Toni to go on. She steeled herself, barely able to look at Toni’s profile.

“Maybe we should?” Shelby mumbled.

Toni blushed dark red and stalled the car trying to get it into first. “Fuck.”

“You have to put it in gear before you let the clutch out.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit! You’re the one—nope, I’m out. I’m not doing this with you right now.”

Behind them, some impatient soul honked at them and Toni swore vehemently as she restarted the engine and got them going again. Shelby kind of wanted to laugh, but she was also surprised by how shy Toni was being about the whole situation. Of the two of them, Toni was the bold, experienced one. She wasn’t supposed to be so embarrassed that she’d rather destroy Shelby’s transmission than talk about it. Shelby wasn’t afforded the opportunity to pursue the matter any further, however, as they drew up outside a large building done in Shed style architecture, all constructed from concrete slabs. The color palette could only be described as drab, but there was a boisterous air as the screams of children sounded from a playground.

“This is it, right?” Toni asked.

“I think so,” said Shelby, checking her phone. “Email said to come to the ten twenty-four building?”

Toni climbed out and walked over the curb to the sidewalk. Shelby went as well, rounding the corner with her as she pointed up at a huge number on the side.

“Ten twenty-four,” she said.

The walls funneled them in to a narrow doorway, and Toni held it open for her, standing back until Shelby passed her into the interior. The scent of white glue and crayons washed over her and she frowned at their surroundings, which included a bulletin board of staff photographs. The photos were adorned with captions like _Ms. Burrell (4-5 years)_ and _Mr. Gray (after school)_.

“Are you sure this is it?” said Toni, pausing in front of a series of cubbies. “This looks more like a pre-school than an office.”

“I don’t know,” Shelby said. “Oh, wait, there it is.”

A receptionist sat behind a high desk with a chipped veneer surface and Shelby approached her while Toni hung back in the doorway, waiting.

“Happy Monday!” the receptionist cried. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m Shelby Goodkind,” Shelby replied, touching the edge of the counter. “I’m supposed to have a tour at one?”

“That’s right. If you want to leave your driver’s license, I’ll give you the key.”

“Oh.” Taken aback, Shelby leaned further over the desk. “No one’s going to come with me?”

The woman waved her hand. “The unit’s empty at the moment, so what’s the worst that could happen? Feel free to look around the grounds, too. It’s in the ten twenty-one coreway. Unit A.”

“Is this the actual one I’d be taking?”

“Yes, ma’am! But it does need some repairs, hence the move in date.” The woman placed a key on the counter for Shelby to take tagged 1021A. “Take your time!”

Shelby glanced over her shoulder at Toni, who shrugged nervously, and Shelby dug her license out of the holder on the back of her phone case to trade for the key. Well, that was definitely unexpected. Shelby and Toni were out of the building before they spoke again, Toni instigating it with a sidelong look.

“Who the fuck just gives you the key to look around?” Toni asked.

“I guess it is student housing,” said Shelby.

“But that’s their opener?”

“I think the cheap rent is the opener.”

They walked together across the grounds, following the unsequential numbers as they wandered from apartment block to apartment block. Soon enough they located the right one and went down a half flight of stairs to a garden level unit. Using the key she was given, Shelby unlocked the door and swung the door open. It was beige carpets and white walls, but the only smell was fresh paint and everything looked reasonably well maintained. Toni entered first, walking through a small narrow hallway into the larger of the two bedrooms.

“Wait, this place is a fucking two bedroom for nine-thirty?” she called out, voice echoing.

Shelby joined her in the room, flooded with light from the south facing windows. “What do you think?”

Toni wandered into the next room. “Looks good to me. New windows. Radiators are actually warm. I see now why they need a month for repairs, though.”

Squeezing into the tiny bathroom with her, Shelby looked down upon a three-foot hole in the shower wall, exposing the wooden studs beneath.

“What happened in there?” Shelby asked.

“Kool-Aid Man,” Toni deadpanned.

“If you say—”

Toni chased her from the bathroom out into the kitchen shouting “OH, YEAH” at the top of her lungs. Unable to keep from laughing at how dumb it all was, Shelby leaned against the counter, weak and breathless as Toni grinned at her and resumed her perusal of the appliances. Exactly as she might have imagined from the pictures. Nothing special but perfectly adequate.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Shelby said. “I know this is sort of awkward. I promise you haven’t been friend zoned.”

“Is this how you treat your friends?” Toni replied, smiling. “I mean this one time a girl took me to an Herbalife seminar, so you’re still not on my top ten reel.”

“Seriously?”

“I noped out of that shit so fast.”

“Have you had many girlfriends?”

Toni laughed at her. “How long have you been waiting to segue into that?”

“How long have you been waiting to use segue in a sentence?”

“Burn, Texas, damn.” She paused, looking at the linoleum as she balanced on her right foot. “Truth is, Regan’s the only serious girlfriend I’ve had. You?”

“Well, Andrew, who you know about.”

“He’s not a girl.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “No girlfriends.”

“Any non-girlfriends? Besides me?”

Shrugging uncomfortably, Shelby stepped over the threshold from the kitchen to the living room. “Couple of drunk kisses in college.”

Toni looked shocked but only for a moment before she nodded slowly. “Why did you never…?”

“There was never a good reason. It was never worth the pain.” Shelby swallowed, realizing too late the implication of the words she uttered, but Toni didn’t read into it, or if she did, then she didn’t say.

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I’m pretty sure now Dottie knew, but she never said. Just always supported me.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

“I’ve been very blessed in a lot of ways. And you? Hiding any non-girlfriends up your sleeves?”

Narrowing her eyes, Toni’s mouth fell open. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen my behavioral questionnaires.”

Shelby spluttered, trying to deny and backtrack at the same time, which only had the unfortunately effect of exposing her as a liar.

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” Shelby quavered, two octaves higher than normal.

Toni dissolved into a fit of laughter, head angled back as she cackled at the look on Shelby’s face. She caught Shelby by the elbows and as her laughter died, Shelby looked down into her eyes. Maybe there was a hint of jealousy there, of possessiveness and something else Shelby didn’t understand, but suddenly Toni was against her, and there were no rational thoughts left.

“Shelby,” Toni warned, but the sound of Toni saying her name only made it worse.

They were crumbling, lips brushing, hands gripping at each other’s shirts. Foreheads pushed together as Shelby fought the powerful impulse to kiss her, slip her tongue into Toni’s mouth. Shelby urged her head back again, brazenly kissing up her jaw to her ear. Shelby could taste her, the slightly salty tang of sweat on her skin. It built like an electrical storm. She wanted to skip all the pointless preliminaries, pick Toni up, slide her hand down and stroke her until the pleasure rolled off her in wave after quivering wave. Shelby pressed into her, pinning her to the wall. Her knee had worked itself between her legs, insistent in its pressure and Toni gave into the contact with a moan.

“God, Shelby.”

“I want you so much,” Shelby confessed against her neck, voice unsteady.

“Shelby,” Toni murmured. “We can’t.”

Shelby stilled, pulling back enough to look at her. Toni was out of breath and flushed, intensity leashed by the barest modicum of restraint, but Shelby had had enough of restraint. She was tired of restraint. Pushing Toni’s jacket back off her shoulders, she shed her own onto the floor, kicking it away.

“Turn,” Shelby commanded, breath hot, directly into Toni’s ear.

She turned her back, obediently, let Shelby’s hands pull her shirt up and work recklessly over her abdomen and hips, slide up the buttons to undo the top two so she could lick and kiss and Toni’s bare shoulders. Where the fuck she intended to go with it she didn’t know, just knew she needed to _touch_. Facing the wall, Toni trembled, barely able to stay upright anymore.

“Shelby,” Toni half moaned. “My knee. I can’t—”

Shelby took her weight before she could even finish articulating the thought, arm snaking around her to hold her. “This okay?”

“Yeah.”

The need was still potent, coursing through her like lightning, but abruptly tempered with tenderness in a way that only made the fire burn hotter, slow her fevered kissing to draw the flame higher. Her left hand flirted at the underwire of her bra. Toni nodded earnestly to the implied question, and Shelby’s hand closed around her fabric clad breast, skimming over it with her palm. Shelby hissed without meaning to at the resulting throb, realizing she was incredibly wet, hips moving painfully slow against Toni’s even with no friction to be had. Hand moving downward again until her fingertips brushed the button of Toni’s jeans. Knowing they couldn’t, shouldn’t, Shelby had an impossible thought.

“Touch yourself,” Shelby blurted. “Let me watch you come.”

“Fuck, Shelby.”

There was no preamble, just Toni fumbling artlessly with her zipper and then she could feel Toni shaking as she snaked her hand into her own underpants. The moan at the first touch was loud and unchecked, months of unfulfilled want coalescing into a single hot, slick point of gratification. She panted, working herself up with fast, focused strokes and Shelby touched Toni’s wrist to feel the cadence of her movements, fantasize that it was her hand between Toni’s legs, as she whimpered quietly between kisses and nips to Toni’s shoulder. Already the edge was nearing, and all at once Shelby needed release, too, needed to go with her.

“Slower,” Shelby whispered.

“Ugh, I’m not sure—fuck, I’m so close.”

“Let me catch up.”

Toni stiffened and let out a strangled cry, shuddering in pleasure as the orgasm took her. Shelby’s hand instinctively covered her mouth, smothering her moans through a second climax that seemed to roll on in little peaks that Shelby could only absorb with the most ruthless kind of pride and awe. Spent and weak, Toni sank to the floor with her and Shelby let Toni turn into her, cuddling her close. They were still touching, although less heatedly. Shelby’s left hand was up Toni’s right sleeve. Toni’s hand was beneath the hem of Shelby’s shirt, on her side. Gentler, a little more chaste, but still caressing, exploring. Toni skimmed her nails along the line of Shelby’s ribs.

“Sorry,” Toni said.

“For what?” Shelby asked, kissing her hair.

“Just—that thing you said. About catching up. Ended me.”

“You needed it.”

“I want you, too.”

“We don’t really have time. We should get back.”

“I think you’ll be quick.”

The words went straight to her groin and Shelby knew she was powerless to say no to her. “Like you did?”

“Yeah.”

Shelby lay back onto the kitchen floor, only momentarily feeling self-conscious about doing this very dirty thing in a apartment that wasn’t officially hers yet, but any reservations she had were swiftly thwarted by the way Toni maneuvered down her body and lay between her legs.

“Stroke your clit for me, Texas,” Toni said softly, earlier shyness forgotten.

Teeth hard in her lower lip, Shelby skirted her fingertips over her hipbone and then down into hot, yielding wetness; embarrassing, undeniable arousal.

“That’s it. Nice and slow.”

She tried to follow Toni’s instructions, but she couldn’t help the pressure building under her fingers after only a few languid circles. Toni’s dark, intense eyes hovered just inches over where her hand moved, drinking her in, encouraging her. All she could think about was how Toni’s tongue would feel on her, licking her gently. Building. Getting closer. Toni wet her lips, watching her face, her fingers. She wanted Toni so much. So close until Toni dipped her head and with a few light touches of her tongue below Shelby’s navel she broke utterly. Hips arching off the floor into Toni’s waiting hands, sobbing out with abandon.

“You’re beautiful,” Toni murmured, holding her. “Good girl.”


	28. Chapter 28

Toni’s chin rested on her abdomen in the aftermath, arms loose across her hips. The last tremors of the thing subsided and still the memory of it shook her, left her unsteady. Shelby’s free hand curved around Toni’s cheek, and she turned her head into it, kissing her palm. There should have been some clarity that followed in the wake of the release. It shouldn’t strangle her, press all the air from her lungs like an elephant sitting on her solar plexus, but that kiss, the way Toni gazed up at her, so giving and indulgent. She had to look away, eyes focused on the painted ceiling. Why the hell did she feel like crying? Somehow it didn’t feel like the correct response and she squirmed, sitting up so she didn’t have to feel the warmth of Toni’s body against her. Her fingers were still disgustingly slick and she surreptitiously wiped them off on the waistband of her underwear.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Toni asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

Shelby nodded slowly. “I’m real good.”

“It’s okay if you’re not, you know? If you’re a little iffy, I get it.”

Wrapping her arms around her knees, Shelby buried her face in the shelter they created.

“Okay, you just got into the tornado drill position. I’m just gonna go out on a limb here that you’re not fully okay.”

Shelby stood up without responding, walking into the kitchen so she could run the tap over her hands, water to wash away the multitude of sins for what they’d done. Behind her, Toni lingered on the floor, and Shelby knew without looking that Toni was watching her, that she was doing the wrong thing, but she didn’t know what to do with the weird surge of emotion aside from panic. She heard Toni get to her feet and pick up both of their jackets. After a moment, she felt the press of her own being offered to her, and she hastily dried her hands on her trousers, taking her coat without turning completely.

“We should probably get that key back,” Toni said and started to make her way back to the office.

Shelby trailed her in silence, trading the key for her driver’s license.

“What did you think?” the receptionist inquired. “How was it?”

Going rather pale, Shelby coughed. “Uh, yeah. It was good.”

“So I’ll put you down as a yes?”

“What?”

“For the apartment?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, please.”

Dear God, nobody else was allowed to have that unit after what they’d done in it. When they left the building, Toni held out Shelby’s fob, a strange expression on her face.

“Don’t you want to drive back?” said Shelby.

“Nah,” Toni replied, shrugging. “I can get back on my own.”

“Toni—"

“It’s cool. I’d need a minute, too, if I were you.”

Shelby just stood there dumbly, unable to articulate anything even vaguely worthy of the circumstances, and Toni calmly tucked the fob in Shelby’s coat pocket when she didn’t take it.

“Should I still plan to see you tomorrow or no?” She took a step back. “Okay. Well, text me and let me know.”

With a wave, Toni ambled down the sidewalk away from Shelby. Squeezing her eyes shut with disappointment and frustration, Shelby clenched her jaw, trying not to hate herself. When she opened her eyes again, she stared into the bright blue of the winter sky and exhaled, wishing she could not feel that heart stopping, stomach dropping reaction over and over. Toni’s smile. Toni kissing her palm. Toni breaking in her arms.

+o+o

That night she had another dream about Toni. It was different from the first one, started with them climbing the tree in her front yard in Dallas, reaching the lowest branches with an aluminum folding ladder, because why not? The physics of dreams didn't need to make any logical sense. They had a long pointless conversation about the traffic cone and during, Toni crept further and further out onto their shared limb until Shelby was certain it would break and she would fall. Shelby convinced her she needed to go down the ladder, but it kept collapsing in on itself, and finally Shelby leapt down so that she could catch her. When Toni jumped, Shelby held her, lifted her chin so Toni could kiss her. That same inexorable, crushing feeling, even in the dream.

As she woke, she found herself thinking about that single kiss they’d stolen the night of the MMF dinner. And she cried, then, turning it over in her mind, because it was all so much worse, so much deeper than she had ever let herself believe it to be. In the pre-light of dawn, Shelby calmed, knowing Toni had been more patient and more kind than she had any right to ask. She pulled her new phone, Toni’s phone really, off her nightstand and searched for the email Toni sent her that outlined the new semester’s class schedule. She had an 8am microbiology wet lab on Tuesday/Thursday, the absolute lunatic, but Shelby was awake and wanted to correct all of her fumbles and missteps, finally convey to Toni that maybe the situation was as fucked up as it could get. Maybe Shelby would keep on not quite hitting the mark. But Toni mattered.

She got out of bed, ran, then showered and went to work. In sort of the reverse of the dozens of times Toni had done it, Shelby bought her coffee and waited outside the long corridor where the undergraduate lab sections met. There was only one door and it was slightly less stalkerish than standing outside the dorm in the cold. She scanned the faces of the students as they passed her, and just when she’d given up hope of seeing Toni that morning, to the point where she’d resigned herself to drinking coffee with no cream in it, which she hated, she saw Toni standing with her head cocked, watching her from the foot of the stairs. Hooking her thumbs in the shoulder straps of her backpack she approached hesitantly, finishing up about three feet from Shelby as the other student bustled around them.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Toni asked.

Extending the coffee to her, Shelby shrugged saying, “I wanted to bring you this.”

Toni took the cup, giving it a little tilt of gratitude. “Thanks, but my lab starts in like two minutes and you know I can’t bring this in there.”

“Oh, shit.” Shelby sighed, covering her eyes with one hand. “I don’t—I don’t know why I did that. I know that.”

Laughing, Toni drank some of it. “At least it’s cooled off.”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“You know you shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I know, but I hated how we left things yesterday.”

“You could have just fucking texted me like a normal person.”

“No, you deserve way more than a text.”

“Okay, well you’re down to like sixty seconds now. Talk fast.”

“Um—goddammit. Look, I was sorta shaken after yesterday and I don’t want you to think I didn’t—because I did. Like it. I know I’m not dealing with anything very well or very fast and you’ve been so patient, but you don’t always have to be. You can call me out when you need to because I wasn’t right to you yesterday and I should be. You’re worth it. You deserve it. I think that’s it.”

Toni frowned, drinking more of the coffee. “You sure?”

Unsure of what to say in addition, Shelby blurted out, “Thank you for coming to my TED Talk,” with her eyebrows raised hopefully, then cringed because it was so stupid.

Leaning around her to see into the doorway of the practice lab, Toni handed the cup back, moving around her to go in. “Hey, can you take this back to lab for me?”

A bit crestfallen, Shelby nodded, gaze following her as she went in and took her usual spot at the bench, the student’s compound microscope in front of her like a child’s toy compared to the research grade scopes she was accustomed to using with Shelby. Toni pulled out her phone and then looked back in Shelby’s direction, flashing her the screen as she mouthed something Shelby couldn’t make out. She reached for her own phone in her back pocket, clumsily unlocking it with her left hand.

_you’re doing an extremely shitty job of not being my girlfriend_

Shelby half smiled, making eye contact with her again. _Sorry? I’ll try harder?_

_that's the spirit_

When Toni came to lab later in the day, she didn’t come over to Shelby’s desk, but she did slump down in her chair far enough that she could rest Shelby’s foot against her own.

_you sure you’re okay?_

_Yeah_

_can we just call a moratorium on anything with walls?_

_Fair_

It was the last time they touched for a while. In the days that followed, they didn't arrange it, but it started happening. Shelby would park across campus even though it was further away, and Toni would meet her in front of her dorm on 17th Avenue. Sometimes she would have coffee. Sometimes she would have a funny image to show Shelby on her phone. Sometimes she was just waiting there, beautiful and expectant in the falling snow. The walk was an easy way for them to stay close without being too close, and it established a pattern that set boundaries to make the restrictions bearable. Those mornings they were just two girls walking together toward lab and its normalcy was one part relieving and one part terrifying, because it felt so right that sometimes Shelby forgot to worry. She forgot about the study and her father, forgot Toni was _anything_ other than just Toni. It didn't matter she was a girl and it didn't matter she was off limits. Toni became her steady state, the place Shelby belonged.

+o+o

“How much of the furniture should I take?” Shelby asked, turning her phone so that Dot and Fatin could take in her living room.

“Could we get a horizontal view here, cameraman?” Fatin requested. “How big is the new place?”

“Seven hundred square feet, I think. Half the size of this place.”

“Doing that math, seems like you should take half the furniture.”

“I should have measured.”

“You didn’t measure?” Dot said.

“Had other things on my mind at the time.”

“I still would have ridden that apartment into an eviction notice,” said Fatin, “but I understand wanting the stability of your own place.”

“Really proud of you Shelby,” Dot agreed.

“Lease starts March first,” Shelby told them. “How are you guys?”

Dot rested her jaw on her closed fist, the cuff of her dress shirt unbuttoned. “I’ve been relegated to precedent hell.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just spending a lot of time reading rulings from other cases to support our positions. It’s like having narcolepsy. I might fall asleep at any moment.”

“Yeah, she has not been helping me at all,” Fatin said. “Have I ever told you your dad is the most boring man alive?”

“What?” Shelby exclaimed, surprised. “You’re not following him around, are you?

“Like I can only see what happens here in Dallas, but the guy does not go anywhere. He goes to work. He goes to church. He goes home. He even goes to the gym here in the office like a commoner. I have not been able to locate a single shady thing about that guy.”

“Have you heard from your dad at all?” Dot asked.

“No,” Shelby admitted. “Got a text from my mama asking if I was coming home for spring break like grad students have spring break.”

“Bitch,” Fatin interjected. “We are supposed to be in Oxford! You can’t come to Dallas.”

“Not sure I’ll be able to go now. Unless Alan digs up some travel money for me.”

Fatin pointed at the camera in outrage. “You cannot send me to England alone. This is my once a year conference.”

“You know it’s not my choice. Might be best for me to be here with Toni anyway.”

“And how is your lady friend?”

“So far, so good. She came with me to look at my new place, actually.”

“No wonder you didn’t do any fucking measuring!”

Shelby blushed hard, knowing any protest would dig her in even more. “Honestly wouldn’t have thought of it.”

She wouldn’t have. Didn’t have a damn tape measure or anything anyway. And repeated it to herself angrily as Fatin spent the rest of the conversation dropping measurement double entendres in as often as she could.

+o+o

Somewhere in the middle of February, however, something else happened that made Nora's day but left Shelby feeling even more conflicted. She and Nora were sitting in their bay taking odds on if any of the subjects would seroconvert over Valentine's Day when Daniel came in to find them.

"Good morning, ladies," he said, taking the high stool beside Shelby's bench. "I'm glad I've found you together. Is Toni around?"

"No, she has O chem," Shelby replied without thinking.

Nora let out a snort she just barely managed to turn into a cough, clearly making fun of her for finally knowing exactly what schoolwork was keeping Toni away.

"Well, you'll pass this onto her, won't you?" Daniel asked.

Shelby and Nora both nodded.

"As you know, this year March twenty-eighth marks the fiftieth anniversary from Sir Tony Epstein's seminal _Lancet_ paper describing the discovery of Epstein-Barr virus." He smiled, gazing at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eye as though he were a very old man pining for green pastures. "To celebrate the occasion, there's going to be a symposium at one of the colleges at Oxford."

"I know," said Shelby. "Alan's organizing this year. He’s one of Professor Epstein's former students."

"Well, the reason I mention this is because all of the big names in the field will be there, including Professor Epstein, who I know you're acquainted with Shelby, but Nora's not. GTW has invited the laboratory personnel to the conference."

Shelby stared at him in disbelief. “There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No mistake. We got a travel package when GTW agreed to fund the trial. The funds were disbursed in the first milestone but I, uh, forgot about it until now. Anyway, I don’t think it’s too late to register. Still over a month away.”

It was an irrational double standard, but in not being the site coordinator or even agreeing to liaise Shelby constantly felt as though she was the last to know anything. Of course, that wasn't true; it meant she found out about everything at exactly the same time Nora did, but something about it did not sit well with her. She had a nagging feeling the only reason the money hadn’t been withdrawn was because it was paid out before she and Dave began their war of attrition.

"We're going to Oxford!" Nora cried excitedly.

Shelby leveled an unimpressed look at her before being reminded of Daniel's request they inform Toni.

"Hang on," Shelby said. "Why am I relaying this to Toni?"

"Well, you and Nora were obvious choices, but there’s enough money for four of us. I figured Toni made sense as the fourth. She’s been a lot more involved in the wet lab research.”

Shelby scowled, not liking the development one bit because frankly she wasn't sure if she even wanted Toni to join them. Toni would be withdrawn by then, but it still wasn’t a great look.

"Won't she have classes?" Shelby protested feebly.

"By luck it falls over spring break," Daniel said.

"But…it'll interfere with her sampling schedule."

Daniel shook his finger at her in simulated disapproval. "Naughty, Shelby. Worked out she's a participant, have you?" He laughed. "I doubt it will interfere with her sampling because she withdrew last month!"

Shelby's mouth fell open with a shocked noise at the exact moment Nora sprang dramatically out of her chair and slung her arm across Daniel's shoulders.

"Great, great," she was saying manically. "Do we need to take care of the plane tickets and everything? The lodging? Great, wonderful. Okay, yeah, we'll tell Toni, no problem. Bye Daniel! See you later!"

Herding him toward the exit, she practically shoved him into the hallway and slammed the door behind him. Shelby was still sitting at her desk, utterly bound to the spot as she repeatedly moved her head like she was trying to shake water from her ears.

"He's wrong," Shelby said to no one in particular even though Nora was standing right beside her. "He's got to be wrong. He's thinking of someone else."

"Yeah, right," Nora agreed dubiously. "Because if he's not that means—"

Shelby jabbed a finger at Nora, daring her to finish that particular comment. There was only one way to find out for sure: consult the study database. It recorded the date and time of every blood sample, every oral wash, symptoms reporting and numerous other things. Most importantly (at least to Shelby in that moment), it had the dates of participant enrollment and withdrawal. Opening her laptop, Shelby carefully typed in Toni's subject identifier and waited as the ancient, ailing software pulled up Toni's record. There, printed on the corner of the spreadsheet, a capital W along with the note _22JAN_. It was true. She'd been withdrawn those three weeks, since the day of Dave’s visit.

"She lied to me," Shelby said quietly.

"On the bright side," Nora said in an overly cheery manner, "at least you're not going to give the ethics board a heart attack."

"Why did she lie to me?"

"That's something you're going to have to ask Toni."

Standing up, Shelby started pacing restlessly up and down the bay. "I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me.”

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don’t.”

Nora glanced at the clock. "Look, I have a meeting in ten minutes. Can we hurry this crisis resolution up?"

Puzzled and a little angry, Shelby retook her chair.

"Okay," Nora mused. "I estimate with my shoddy biologist's math that you have twenty hours give or take to calm down about this. That girl must love stubborn women.”

"You've made your point.”

"Awesome. If there's some kind of shenanigans in here when I get here tomorrow morning, I'm locking you both in the cold room until you get hypothermia or make out.” Nora winced. “I mean up."

With a slightly confused expression still on her face, Nora picked up her notebook and left the lab muttering "up, make _up_ " under her breath as she departed. Well, that was the whole issue of Toni being study participant sorted, but from the girl thing, to the study thing, to Dave and Oxford, why couldn't anything with Toni ever just be simple?

+o+o

The next day was a Friday, February 14. Shelby went into lab early, having not slept much the preceding night as she thought about Toni and what her withdrawal meant. She let Shelby think she was still enrolled in the study for a reason. Shelby just didn't know what that reason was or why she'd plotted like a spy in a political thriller. So naturally, the one person she was not expecting to see was already there, standing at her bench, with a full rack of tubes of purple loading dye. They hadn't needed to do any PCR for over a month, so Shelby's first reaction was to figure out what the hell the Toni was playing at doing experiments by herself. Then she actually got a good look at Toni and all her righteous indignation couldn't compete with the wave of want she fought. They were free, or at least free enough, and if Shelby had wanted to walk up to her and kiss her, she could have. Minor considerations about her still being Toni’s supervisor aside.

“What are you doing?” Shelby asked.

“Running a gel,” Toni replied like that wasn't very fucking apparent based on the equipment on her bench.

“Why? We're done with the PCR.”

“You'll see soon.”

Shelby came around, peering at the gel suspiciously but it didn't divulge any of its secrets. It just lay there in the gel box, a semi-flexible slab of agarose swimming in buffer. Toni angled her head as Shelby looked at is suspiciously, but didn't give so much as a flicker of indication of what she was thinking or feeling. She just looked imperturbably calm. Throwing down her things without much regard for the contents of her bag, Shelby immediately set about pulling blood samples to be sent to a collaborator in British Columbia.

The cell aliquots were kept in the liquid nitrogen and needed to be transferred immediately to a box of dry ice. The large nitrogen dewars were fitted with six tall racks, each about the height of Shelby's hip. The mouth of the dewar, however, was only as wide as the length of her forearm, requiring a full extension upward lift in order to get the racks out. Normally Toni would have helped her with the task because the job was much easier with two people, especially since Toni was just a hair too short to do it with much efficiency; to extract the racks she had to stand on a stool.

Toni watched passively as Shelby struggled with the first rack, the liquid nitrogen pouring off it in sheets and skittering across the cracked linoleum in droplets that fizzled and evaporated almost immediately. She could feel the cold of it through the fabric of her clothes, a reminder of the potency of its danger. Even indirect contact with the stuff could leave her with burns. Yet after so many years, Shelby chose dexterity over safety, wearing only a pair of nitrile gloves rather than the thick protective mitts. She bungled her way through the first two boxes of cells, pulling out the vials she needed before hissing and rubbing her fingers together vigorously. Toni sighed and briskly stepped forward, donning the heavy mitts to handle the boxes.

“Leave it,” Shelby said.

“Fuck’s sake,” Toni swore. “You’re going to get burned. Let me help you.”

Toni took the box away, cramming it back into the rack before taking out the next one. Toni wasn't going to go, even if Shelby commanded her and not really wanting permanent nerve damage from nitrogen burns, Shelby relented. They pulled the rest of the samples in a rigid dance without further speaking. During the hour it took them, Nora appeared and she glanced over at the pair with raised eyebrows. Shelby might have been witnessing the demolition of her new apartment for as happy as she looked about being in such close proximity to Toni. As Toni lowered the last rack back into the nitrogen, averting her face from the vapor that came billowing out, Shelby taped the package of dry ice shut. She swept it off the bench to take it to the FedEx drop off, and stormed out of the lab. Toni leaned against the sink, a trace of a frown finally furrowing her forehead.

"Well, go after her!" Nora urged, giving Toni a push toward the door. "Good luck!"

Giving Nora a surprised look, Toni jogged after her. She caught up to Shelby by the elevator bank, the package sitting on the floor by her left foot.

"Oh, no," Shelby said, holding up her hand like she was trying to ward off a vampire. "Go back to lab.”

Scooping up the box, Toni held the samples hostage as she maneuvered just out of Shelby's reach and slipped inside one of the elevators. Shelby had no choice but to follow if she wanted the parcel to make it to FedEx. They ended up in the freight car, with metal walls and floor, that moved at about a tenth of the normal speed of the other elevators. As soon as the doors slid shut, Toni placed the box deliberately on the aluminum decking and put her boot on top of it.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “What is going on?”

Shelby shook her head. “No—"

Her retort was cut short as the floor dropped out from under them and came to a halt with a shudder that almost knocked Shelby off her feet. Catching her around the waist, Toni kept her upright, eyes quickly scanning the light panel that indicated what level they were currently on. They should have been passing the fourth floor, but none of the numbers was lit. And they weren't moving, which Shelby wasn't sure was good news or bad news. Pulling away from Toni, Shelby pushed the button for four. Then three. Nothing happened.

"Are you kidding?" Shelby said.

Toni jumped experimentally, smirking at the savage glare Shelby gave her after ascertaining they weren't going to fall to their deaths. “Looks like we’re stuck.”

“This cannot be happening. This box has to go out before ten."

Toni shrugged, settling in a corner like she got stuck in faulty elevators everyday and wasn't in the least concerned. Shelby was on a schedule though and was seriously displeased about being confined in an extremely small space with Toni Shalifoe. Rolling her eyes, Toni crossed to the door and popped open a little panel that concealed a speaker system.

"Hello!" Toni yelled as she held down "speak." "Hello, we're fucking stuck in here!"

"Can you tell me the number of the elevator you're in?" returned a tinny voice.

“Number?” Toni mouthed to Shelby, who motioned to the digits stamped on one of the ceiling tiles.

"One sixteen."

"We'll send an engineer. ETA ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?!"

"Sorry, ma'am, that's the best we can do."

Toni attempted further remonstrance but the tinny voice had quite enough of being shouted at and it didn't reply. After the exchange, Toni retook her post in the corner, sitting with her legs stretched out as she fiddled with her phone.

“Good opportunity for us to talk, I guess,” Toni said casually.

Shelby gazed down at Toni, feeling her chest well up with hurt. What did she say, what did she do when all of her self-defense mechanisms failed? Toni got up again, a little labored, going to her and it was finally her nearness that fractured Shelby like a green branch, splintering along its length but unable to break cleanly.

"You withdrew last month! Why didn't you tell me? That was three weeks ago and all the time we—"

Toni held up her hands, touching Shelby's shoulders to slow the assault. Her eyes searched Shelby’s face and after a few seconds Shelby saw her throat work and Toni sighed audibly.

“Why did you lie to me?” Shelby said.

Toni shook her head, looking away. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Yeah, clearly not.”

“I did it the day my mom relapsed.”

Closing her eyes, Shelby sucked in a breath, because she had forgotten about that in the heat of the discovery.

“There…there was a lot of shit going through my head, and I had this feeling of just—fuck it, you know? So I emailed Daniel and told him I wanted to withdraw. Thought about quitting lab, too. Like what the fuck am I doing here? I’m not a scientist. I’m not anything.”

“I didn’t—"

“But then you showed up at my dorm and—fuck, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Her irritation giving way to shame, Shelby wondered how close she’d come to losing Toni then, if she hadn’t been there to reassure Toni when she did, say the things Toni needed to hear. That sliver of fear was so subtle as to be almost invisible, but it got deeper every time Shelby saw it.

“I didn’t tell you because you weren’t ready,” Toni went on, voice hoarse.

“What do you mean I wasn’t ready? Of course, I was ready, I—”

“You’re still not ready.” Toni raised her eyebrows just a fraction, and Shelby swallowed her arguments.

“Isn't that for me to decide?” Shelby said at last.

“Everything was still new and fragile. We had a plan. A really fucking bad one, but it was a plan and I didn’t want you to feel pressured because of some impulsive fucking decision I made.”

“So you let me go on feeling guilty?”

“No, I wanted you to feel safe!”

“By not letting me know I was safe?”

“Yeah, because after we did that… _stuff_ together, just confirmed I made the right decision to stay on the fucking script!”

“Don’t you think that would have gone different if I didn’t think I on the verge of trashing three years of my life because all I can seem to fucking do is give in to wanting you?”

An ominous creaking sounded from somewhere in the elevator shaft and Shelby snatched at Toni’s sleeve apprehensively as it continued, then the doors were suddenly pried open to reveal they were halfway between levels, the bottom of their car misaligned with the fourth floor by about a yard. A burly engineer poked his head in.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Are you both okay?"

"No, these things are a safety hazard," Toni growled. "Get us down from here."

Shelby slithered down without further ado, stoutly rebuffing any help from the engineer. As such, she waited for Toni as she handed down the package of samples and sat down on the edge of the elevator. She placed her hands on Shelby's shoulders, sliding more or less into her arms during the descent. For a moment, she clung to Toni's shirt but she turned away from her as soon as she was safely on solid ground again.

Shelby then unleashed the full force of her pent-up emotion on the man. “This is totally unacceptable. There are problems with these elevators all the time.”

He tried to simultaneously apologize and assure her that all the cars were on a switchboard that would signal a malfunction, but Toni didn't stay to see how it finished. She climbed the stairs the rest of the way up to the shipment center. The clerk was just printing the receipt for the acceptance when Shelby found her. Toni held out the paper, dropping it on the tile when Shelby didn't take it after a few seconds, brushing past her and back down the corridor. Shelby grabbed the receipt, scurrying after Toni to where she waited for another elevator. After one look at Shelby's face, Toni rolled her eyes and went into the stairwell to return to the basement. She had her boot on the first step when Shelby grasped her arm, preventing her from going any further.

"What? So I caught you at it and now you're all petulant, is that it?" Shelby said.

With slow, calculated economy of motion, Toni returned to the landing, drawing herself up to her full height. “Look me in the eye and tell me you are ready for everything this relationship entails.”

Toni didn’t touch her, but she was close, close enough that if Shelby had chosen to do it, she might have closed the distance, might have leaned down to kiss her. But that was the point. At the end of the day, Shelby suddenly wasn’t so sure. _Was_ she ready? She'd thought so until Toni said she wasn't. Shelby's fingers flexed, shoulders pressed against the concrete blocks.

“I thought we had a moratorium on walls,” Shelby joked weakly.

“What do you want from me?” Toni asked.

The only answer she had was the truth. “You. I just want you.”

“Then tell me when you’re ready.”

Toni backed away, never breaking eye contact, and Shelby knew at once she couldn’t be a coward again. She stepped forward, taking Toni’s face in her hands, and kissed her. Not hard and lustful, greedy, but with a kind of painful tenderness that took all her strength and all her courage to fetter. Toni yielded to her immediately, fingertips digging into her sides. Then Toni’s tongue brushed her lower lip and Shelby let her in, felt her back strike the wall again, the impact softened by the cushion of Toni’s palm on her shoulder blade, protecting her. So gently, much more gently than she’d ever been kissed in her life, and yet her heart was in her throat, months of doubt and misgiving distilling into a flash point of certainty. Toni broke away from her with a sigh, staying close, holding her.

“We will be here _all_ day if you keep doing that,” Toni murmured against her lips.

Shelby stroked the skin over Toni’s jaw with her thumb. “And you have class.”

“Fuck. I forgot about that for a second.”

“Is this okay?”

“Nah. Extremely disappointed. Zero out of ten. Definitely wouldn’t—”

Kissing her again, Shelby silenced her review. “Oh, I like that.”

“The kissing me or the shutting me up?”

“Both.”

Toni grinned, laughing shakily. “Fuck off.”

“All right. I know you need to go.”

They parted reluctantly, and Toni shoved her hands into her pockets, as though to keep herself from staying latched onto some part of Shelby.

“Hey, this doesn’t change shit, okay?” Toni said earnestly. “We don’t have to move any faster now.”

“I know,” Shelby replied. “Just promise me, no more hiding stuff.”

Toni nodded, chastened. “Yeah, okay.”

“I can’t earn your trust if—"

Shaking her head, Toni closed the distance again, showing her it worked both ways, and gave her a last lingering kiss.

+o+o

Nora offered her a tentative smile when she returned to lab a few minutes later, but all she got was an embarrassed throat clearing from Shelby before she went back to her desk. She was about to sit down when she noticed the gel that Toni had set up before they left, abandoned on Toni's bench. She pulled on a pair of gloves and unplugged the gel box. The gel was hot and overrun. The dye front had already come off the foot and was dissipating into the bubbles in a blue swirl. Warily testing the gel with a gloved finger, she checked to see if it melted any, but it seemed relatively intact, probably because Toni had the foresight to set the power supply to a relatively low voltage. She gingerly lifted it out of the mold and carried it to the ultraviolet light box.

Why in the world was Toni running a gel? When she went to take the photo, though, she had to bite her lip and swallow she felt like such a lovesick fool. Toni must have spent hours working out the right restriction enzymes and templates to come up with so many perfectly sized fragments of DNA. Even though the point had run off the gel and it was a bit elongated from the delay, the bands Toni loaded for her formed a slightly distorted heart. It was the single most beautiful valentine anyone had ever given her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Likely no midweek as I've let some deadlines pile up on me. (I should pack my job in and write fiction full time, no?) Until then, be safe and well!


	29. Chapter 29

Shelby didn't say anything to Toni about the gel, having hidden the photo beneath a stack of papers in her uppermost desk drawer. She probably didn't need to as Toni didn’t seem to relish overt shows of emotion anyway. The gel didn't erase the lie, but Shelby finally thought she understood why Toni had done it: to protect her, like the hand she held between Shelby’s shoulder and the concrete wall. Her withdrawal from the study guaranteed Shelby wouldn't have ethical conflicts, and the lie gave them both something to hold like a shield between them. Shelby tried to imagine how she might have reacted without that barrier to buffer her confusion with the promise of time. It bought Shelby weeks to get used to the idea of _being_ with Toni. Slowly. Without it she might have lost her nerve in January, shut down completely.

She glanced up from her thoughts to discover she was alone in the lab on a Friday night. Wasn’t the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it was Valentine’s Day and Shelby wondered if Toni would mind seeing her for a bit. Why the hell was she feeling so shy about it? She rifled in her desk drawer until she came up with the photo of the gel again, tracing the outline of the bands with her finger. Not the insane act of a person who didn’t want to spend time with her. Mustering up some backbone, she laid her phone on top of her laptop keyboard and texted her.

_Hey_

_hey yourself_

_What are you doing?_

_nothing. you still in lab?_

_How’d you guess?_

_come hang_

Shelby frowned slightly at the message, still not certain. _Just the two of us?_

_marcus is here with marty_

_Third wheel?_

_the awkward is real_

Well, that sounded relatively non-threatening, but that’s what she’d thought when they went to go look at that God forsaken apartment together. All it would take was a few minutes left alone together for something seemingly innocuous to go horribly wrong. Their angry argument in the elevator resonated. Truthfully, she didn’t know if she was ready or not. Suddenly, she had the wild thought that maybe Toni wasn’t ready either. That was probably unlikely. Of the two of them, Shelby was the recently uncloseted twenty-six-year-old. She sighed, debating if she should risk it or call their mostly drama free kiss in the stairwell her win for the week and go home. In the end, the measured, rational part of her brain triumphed.

_Should probably play it safe. Raincheck?_

_if you come now, i'll make it worth your while_

How could she say no to that?

+o+o

Shelby looked up from street level at the window she reckoned was Toni’s, pictured her up there in her room with Martha. Lifting her bag higher onto her shoulder, she listened to the laughter of the undergrads from around the corner on frat row. Still second guessing herself, second guessing Toni, but trusting that they kept being drawn together for some reason that she couldn’t yet quite discern, couldn’t ascertain the through line while recognizing it must exist. It was the only part of any of it that continued to make sense to her. And Toni. What were they since Toni was officially withdrawn? Were they a couple? Were they casual? Was she allowed to kiss her in the foyer or she supposed to just walk in like they didn’t know each other that well? Did they know each other that well? At what point had she degenerated to the psychological state where she had a meltdown every time she saw Toni?

“Texas!” Toni called, holding the door open for her. “Are you coming in sometime tonight?”

As she walked into the foyer, Shelby went for a brisk handshake, moving past her into the entryway afterward. For Pete’s sake, it was like she was losing all of her social skills by reverse osmosis, the awkward scientists around her sucking away her ability to do something even vaguely appropriate.

“Do I get the job?” Toni asked.

“Sorry,” Shelby said. “I don’t know why I did that.”

With a mild grimace, Shelby followed Toni up to her floor, noting how slender her legs were clad in black tights, disappearing into her hoodie. When they got to Toni's room, though, she walked right by it, leaving Shelby nonplussed and holding onto the doorframe. Glancing over her shoulder, Toni smirked.

"What’s up?” she asked with her eyebrows high.

"We're not...?" Shelby waved her hand at the door.

Toni shook her head. “Nah, nobody’s in there.”

Grinning, Toni went back to her, and with none of Shelby's earlier clumsiness, stretched out to take her hand, but just as they touched, they were interrupted by a passerby.

"Hi, Toni," someone said carelessly.

“Hey, Ben,” she replied.

Shelby turned in time to see him mouth “— _is hot_ ” to Toni from behind her. Ben blanched, his ears going pink and Shelby rounded on Toni for the slightest suggestion of a smug smile on her face to fade into embarrassment.

“Yeah, this is my friend Shelby,” Toni said in a rush. “Shelby, this is Ben from down the hall.”

Putting on her most charming smile, Shelby stuck out her hand, relieved she could shake someone’s hand in the correct context. His palm was a bit clammy, but he shook readily enough.

“Hi, Ben,” Shelby drawled.

“You’re not from Minnesota.”

“No, Dallas, Texas actually.”

“So Shelby from Texas, you don’t happen to have any gay friends, do you?”

“What?” Shelby quirked a confused frown at him.

“Toni needs a girlfriend.”

“Shut up, Ben!” Toni growled.

“She has been pining for like a year for some straight girl. Like, for a while it was kind of cute, but now it’s just _sad_.”

“A year?” Shelby asked. “This girl sounds like a grade A B.”

“Right?!” Ben exclaimed. “She goes on two dates last winter and then it’s been this straight one ever since. Like help a sister out.”

“Ben, if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Toni warned.

“I’m just saying.”

“You probably should have given up on this girl a long time ago,” Shelby told Toni. “She seems like a nightmare.”

“Taste.”

“Oh, my fucking God,” Toni muttered.

Giving Toni a look, Shelby couldn’t help but smile, and there was something about the adorably humiliated expression on her face that made Shelby want to kiss her into breathless reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Ben,” Shelby said. “I think I have a solution to Miss Shalifoe’s little problem.”

“What’s the tea?” Ben asked.

“Just think I know the right girl for her.”

“Well, fine. Be a cryptic bitch. Anyway, it was good to meet you. You should visit more often to keep this mopey sack of shit company!”

With a massive eye roll at Toni’s abject consternation, Ben continued on his way down the corridor and around the corner. Once he had gone. Toni turned into the wall, covering her face with both hands.

“I hate both of you,” Toni’s muffled voice informed her into the surface of the painted sheetrock.

Bursting out laughing, Shelby rubbed Toni’s shoulder with one hand. “Seriously? A whole year?”

“He’s fucking exaggerating.”

“Then six months? Since fall?”

Curling both arms around her head, Toni tried to melt into the wall. “I swear to God, Shelby.”

“This girl, though. She _does_ sound like a lot of hard work. You probably wish she’d just get her shit together.”

That seemed to shake her, and Toni peaked out at her from behind her forearm. “She is getting her shit together.”

“Yeah.” Shelby scoffed. “Sure.”

Unfolding completely, Toni shook her head. “Aren’t there like flowers that only bloom once a year or some shit like that? Like so fucking what if it takes you longer than it took me? Or fucking Ben for that matter.”

Shelby scowled. “Ben?”

“He is a bitch ass queen and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. Ben does drag.”

“Oh.”

“We _have_ to work on your gaydar.”

Shelby bit her lip. “Have you really not been on any dates since last winter?”

Toni coughed hoarsely and that was all the dignity she granted that question. Brushing it off, Toni led her to the southwest corner of the dorm, a common room with two full walls of windows, darkened aside from the streetlights beyond the glass. The furniture was definitely of an industrial standard, including two tables with chairs and a pair of sofas facing one another. Below lay the street crossing where Shelby had broken her arm, pavement salt streaked and solid. In one corner, Martha sat with some boy, dark haired and handsome in a nerdy way. Toni was careful not to interrupt their conversation and sank into a chair at the smaller of the two tables, her iPad, a textbook, and a half-eaten pizza sitting there. Shelby sat next to her, letting her bag slide down her arm onto the floor. She unzipped her jacket as she watched Martha talking animatedly to the boy, then looked down at Toni’s work area.

“Are you really doing homework on a Friday night?” Shelby asked softly.

Toni rolled her eyes, whispering, “It was like a whole fucking thing.”

“Should I say hi?”

“No! Like I came out here so they could be alone and then they fucking came with me!”

“So you're their courting chaperone?”

“Apparently.” Toni shrugged. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

Toni looked spectacularly unsurprised by that news and slid the pizza box down to her.

“I can give you some money for it.”

“It’s half a fucking pizza, Shelby. I got it.”

Shelby got cross-legged in the chair so that she could balance the cardboard across her knees. “Thanks.”

“Sorry. No plates. Or coasters.”

She smiled when she said it though, catching Shelby’s eye long enough that Shelby found herself staring back at her with the food forgotten. Toni nudged the iPad in between them and pulled up an app. It was Plague, Inc. They leaned close together playing the game as Shelby ate, communicating mostly in a array of facial expressions from baffled to annoyed, until they lost dramatically with just five souls in Greenland uninfected.

It was organic, the way their shoulders bumped together, and Shelby laid the box on the floor beside her chair so she could sit closer to the table and control more of their moves. Organic, too, when her hand touched Toni’s good knee as they murmured over the symptom list, trying to decide what to do next. Shouldn’t have all the fluttery tension of the thing have gone out of it? They were together. They’d reaffirmed it, but her pulse quickened as Toni’s fingers brushed her wrist. She'd come to the conclusion the jitters she felt must all be manufactured, mostly the result of their affair being a forbidden one, but there they were, perfectly allowed to do as they liked and with a scant instant of touching and glancing, and they might have been back in November. Not appreciating or accepting what that oscillating tingle across her skin meant.

Each look felt stolen, and when Shelby leaned across her to take her water bottle from the edge of the table, Toni steadied her in the small of her back, and why the fuck was that simple, innocuous touch such a powerful, erotic thing? She stayed with her arm on the table and Toni turned into her, body mostly shielding Shelby’s hand from hallway. The way it closed around Toni’s thigh, fingertips on the seam of her tights, squeezing gently into the muscled length of it to help Shelby keep her balance before withdrawing again. When a pivotal part of the game required some deeper thought, Shelby let her arm fall lax at her side and soon she felt the tentative skim of the back of Toni’s knuckles against her own.

“So what should we do?” Shelby asked, trying to ignore the way Toni was pressing their fingertips together.

“Just see where it takes us,” Toni replied.

“I meant in the game.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened as she sat up, but Shelby firmly laced her fingers into Toni’s, preventing her from pulling away. “Antibiotic resistance, right?”

“Works for me.” Shelby let go of her hand with a smile as they barreled closer to victory.

+o+o

An hour later, Shelby was no closer to understanding why Martha and Marcus were still loitering around with the them in the lounge, but she couldn’t deny she’d had fun hanging out with Toni. Eventually, Marcus stood up and stretched, making every indication he was about to leave. Shelby laughed as Toni raised her eyebrows in anticipation, eager for the weird interlude to be over, but then Martha stood chatting with him yet longer and Toni groaned under her breath. She gestured at them with an exasperated jab of her hand.

“Thanks for coming,” Toni whispered. “It would have been fucking awful just sitting here by myself.”

“It was nice to rescue you for a change,” Shelby said. “So…I guess I better get going.”

Shifting position, Toni let out a forlorn sigh. “I wish I could ask you to stay longer, but…” She glanced over at Martha and Marcus. “Told Marty she could sexile me.”

“Ah. Yeah, I see.” Then Shelby frowned. “Where are you gonna go if…?”

“Didn’t think that far ahead.”

“You…could always come with me?”

Toni gasped in mock outrage. “Shelby Goodkind.”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“Do not fucking—”

Martha and Marcus walked out of the lounge at that moment and Toni leaned so far out of her chair trying to see which way they were going that she almost tipped over onto the carpet. Catching her at the last moment, Shelby righted her, eyes focused on her lips. It was a dangerous proposition and getting to her feet, Shelby swept up her bag.

“I’ll see you Monday?” she asked.

Tilting her chair back onto two legs, Toni looked up at her. “I mean, you don’t have to go right _now_ , do you?”

“Didn’t you just say I should?”

Toni let the chair fall back down with a thump, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Oh, thank fuck for that,” Toni said. “They went to his room.”

Shelby nodded, simultaneously disappointed and relieved. “Okay.”

“I’m just trying to take it slow.”

“Yeah. I know. Everybody knows what I want more than I do.”

Toni made a frustrated noise, holding her hands up with her fingers spread. “Fuck. I’m not trying to gatekeep this like I fucking know better or something. I just want you to be ready because—”

“I don’t know what I want?”

“No, because—forget it. I don’t understand you.”

Shelby regarded her, starting to genuinely feel angry. “So not only do I not get to make own decisions, you don’t have to explain.”

Shaking her head, Toni looked up at the ceiling. “This is why I didn’t want you to know I withdrew.”

“I don’t understand you, either! Like one minute we’re holding hands and the next minute you’re afraid to be alone with me.”

“And one minute you’re biting my shoulder, making me fucking come and the next you’re washing your hands, looking like you’ve never been more ashamed—"

Shelby pitched forward, ducking so they were on eye level. “You think I was _ashamed_ after that?”

“Were you not? Because we had this this thing, this moment, and then it was nothing."

Deadly serious, Shelby planted her hands on the armrests of the chair, cornering Toni there as her voice dropped to a strained hiss. “I think about it all the time. I think about you moaning into my hand. I think about lying under you, touching myself, making you watch while I—"

The rest of the sentence was stifled as Toni surged up, caught her so hard it pushed her up against the edge of the table, hands on her hips. Saw the moment Toni finally _gave_ , and then they were kissing. Hot, open mouthed, reckless. Knew there was no stopping until they were both sated, satisfied, until they had ruined each other. Submit again and again into utter exhaustion. They broke apart briefly, and Shelby nodded as she exhaled, hanging onto the back of Toni’s shirt, wanting to be led to her room, her bed so they could—

“Hey, Toni,” a girl said, sticking her head into the lounge.

Toni tore her gaze from Shelby, eyes dark and distracted as she barked out, “What?” to the intruder.

“There’s some guy outside looking for you. Said his name was Jake?”

She staggered back from Shelby as though struck. “Fuck, no.”

Struggling over to the window, she wrenched back the curtain and craned her neck to look down the length of the building toward street level. If the set of her body had been tense before, the ferocity of it increased tenfold, and Shelby could see Toni’s head sink down between her shoulder blades. When she turned back her face was pale and expressionless, focused on nothing.

“I have to go,” she said, barely looking at Shelby. “Just…fucking stay here, okay?”

Sensing Toni sincerely needed her to agree and not argue, she nodded.

“Promise me you will stay here?”

“Yeah.”

With an appraising rake of her eyes down Shelby’s body, she half-walked, half-jogged to the stairwell, favoring her left leg much more than Shelby was accustomed to seeing. As soon as she was out of sight, Shelby went to the window, angling her head in the direction she’d seen Toni look. There was a man sitting on the stairs, his aspect impossible to tell from the distance. All she could discern was that his clothes were dark. It took maybe thirty seconds more but she watched as Toni exploded out onto the sidewalk, pacing restlessly along 17th as the man slowly roused and sat up on one elbow. She couldn’t hear anything through the double paned glass, but she knew Toni well enough to sense her agitation from a hundred feet away. When the man finally did stand, he towered over her and Shelby instantly did not like those odds. Eyes flicking between them, Shelby made a split-second decision. She’d promised to stay, but she hadn’t promised she wouldn’t listen. Scrabbling at the sash of the window she managed to get it open a scant inch and pressed her ear to the opening. Below her, she could see Toni’s breath clouding in the glare of the streetlights.

“—fucking come until now?” Toni demanded, her voice echoing up between the sides of the buildings.

The man’s sentences were slow, meandering, like he was forgetting what to say as the words left his mouth. “I’m here now. What the fuck does it matter?”

“She is in goddamn liver—” She laughed mirthlessly, face falling. “Oh. She still had money. You’re a fucking piece of shit, Jake.”

“Come on, Toni. She needs you.”

Toni pointed at herself. “Needs _me_? She fucking had me. I did everything I could. I got her on the list. I got her fucking money.”

“Recovery—”

“Isn’t a straight fucking line?!”

Toni shoved Jake hard in the chest and the movement brought back a cascade of memory, and Shelby knew at once she’d seen him somewhere before. Seen him with Toni. He stumbled backward a step but didn’t seem discommoded by it, seemed to absorb it like maybe deep down he thought he deserved it, too.

“Fuck you, man,” Toni said, shaking her head. “I’m not getting sucked into this shit again. She made her choice.”

“Toni,” Jake said. “She’s gonna die if you don’t come.”

“You saw what she fucking did to me!”

He made some movement with his head that Shelby couldn’t quite see, then sank down onto the stairs again. The flash of his lighter as he lit a cigarette illuminated his face. Along the curb, Toni walked to the corner and pushed both hands into her hair, the silhouette of her frame angular and foreign in the headlights of oncoming cars. She trailed back and Shelby could hear the broken hum of Toni telling him something, before she mounted the stairs and disappeared into front entrance of the dorm. Abandoning the window, Shelby gathered up Toni's forgotten things, cramming them in amongst her old phone and laptop. She stepped out into the corridor in time for Toni to emerge from the stairwell. Even from where she was standing, Shelby could see the muscle flex in Toni’s jaw, see the shiny streak of tears on her cheek, and that was the moment Toni saw her. In that instant, she wasn’t the strong, funny, tough Toni she knew. She was small, frightened and childlike beneath a bloom of recoil and rage. She deliberately averted her gaze, walking toward her room. Shelby met her at the threshold as she unlocked the door.

“What’s going on?” Shelby asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Toni said harshly.

“Anyone who hurts you is my business.”

Toni pushed the door open, immediately starting to strip off her clothes, shedding the tights onto the floor so she could put on jeans and her boots. Having the presence of mind to not just stand there staring at her with the door open, Shelby came inside and waited with her back to the wall. Toni’s hand hovered for a fraction of a second over her Carhartt, but in the end the fingers curled into a white knuckled fist and she snatched a different jacket off the back of a chair, shrugging it on. Shelby blocked the doorway, and as her eyes met Toni’s the undisguised vitriol there knocked the wind out of her, made her realize she had entered new territory that could not be undone. She took Toni’s sleeve, held it hard, even when she resisted and tried to jerk it away.

“Toni, let me come with you,” Shelby said quickly.

“This is none of your business,” Toni repeated, lips trembling. “Let go of me.”

Shelby clung onto Toni with the tenacity of a cowboy trying to corral a spooked horse, and as Toni fought her grip, Shelby let the furrow in her forehead ease. Forced some kindness into her expression to soothe her. Her heart beat fast. She didn’t know what she was doing, but as she swallowed and searched Toni’s face, the only emotion that registered through the haze was that bitter resignation. She didn’t want Toni to be alone.

"Let me help,” Shelby insisted. “Whatever it is, we can do it together.”

“No, we can’t,” Toni spat. “You have no clue what you’re asking for.”

“Maybe not, but I want to help, however I can.”

“Why? You want to go digging through shit holes full of used syringes because my mom’s a fucking junkie?”

She could tell Toni meant to shock her, but she was undeterred. “Time for me to put that blood borne pathogens training to work.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time to fucking babysit your ass, too. Just stay out of it.” Finally twisting free, Toni tried to push past.

Shelby used her height to her advantage, looming over Toni slightly. “I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but you chose me. Now you get to deal with the consequences.”

“Shelby, if you don’t—”

“If I don’t what? You are my problem. And if you are going anywhere, I am coming with you.”

Toni didn’t seem to know what to say to that. After a long pause where her shoulders relaxed, the smallest nod of consent registered. Shelby patted down her pockets, made sure she had her phone and at least a bit of cash for the journey ahead and threw her bag onto Toni’s bunk.

“Okay,” Shelby said, reaching for her hand. “Where are we going?”


End file.
